


we've got each other (and that's a lot)

by lotts (LottieAnna)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Closeted Character, Coming Out, Future Fic, M/M, Slow Burn, wedding season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 01:28:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13066284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts
Summary: “I’m gonna be a groomsman,” Mitch says, then flops dramatically into the chair across from Auston, grabs Auston’s glass of whiskey, and takes a long sip. It burns as it goes down, and he makes a face. “Again.”





	we've got each other (and that's a lot)

**Author's Note:**

> IF YOU FOUND THIS THROUGH GOOGLING, KNOW ANYONE MENTIONED IN THIS STORY PERSONALLY, OR ARE MENTIONED YOURSELF: please, please click away. This is a work of fiction and nothing written in this story is true. Any accurate information used in this story is publicly available information about public figures, the rest is made up, 100%.
> 
> This has been in the works for... a while. Working title was "sad gay hockey 27 dresses," which should give you some idea of what to expect here, and the actual title's from "Livin' On A Prayer," which is how you know this fic means a lot to me. 
> 
> Untagged things that should be warned for nonetheless: brief Mitch Marner/OMC, coming out anxieties, homophobia, and some very painful closet feelings. Be careful with yourselves when reading this; I wouldn't categorize this as angst, but some others might? It gets... pretty tough, at times. This is a story about loneliness, but it's also a story about friendship, learning to live in the present, and, obviously, love. Also, brunch.

 

“Why does it feel like every time I talk to you, you’re getting ready for some wedding?” Auston asks over Skype.

Mitch shrugs. “It’s the offseason, man. That’s what happens.”

“Okay, but you’ve been to way more than anyone else.”

“That’s probably not true,” Mitch says.

“It so is. How do you even know this many people?”

“It’s because I’m likeable. Unlike you.”

“You like me,” Auston says.

“Sometimes,” Mitch shoots back.

“All of the time. Whose wedding is this, anyway?”

“One of the London guys.”

“Which London guy?” Auston asks.

Mitch rolls his eyes. “Like you know my London friends.”

“I know some,” Auston says, defensive.

“You don’t know this one. It’s fine. He’s not, like a close friend.”

“Alright,” Auston says. “Look like it’s gonna be fun?”

Mitch shrugs. “It’s a wedding.”

“No way,” Auston deadpans.

“I just mean – y’know. Weddings are fun, but, like, weird. It’s – I dunno, it’s complicated.”

“Ah,” Auston says, nodding. “Gotcha.”

“Yep,” Mitch says. Auston doesn’t press for details, which is nice, but expected, because Auston – well, he pushes when it matters, but Mitch doesn’t really have time for a long discussion about love and commitment and his feelings on being single, right now.

“Well, with any luck, there’ll be an open bar,” Auston says, and Mitch smiles at that.

“Of course,” Mitch says. He’s about to say something else, but then a text from his mom pops up to let him know she’s outside. “Oh, shit, gotta go, my ride’s here.”

“You called a cab already?” Auston asks.

“Nah, my mom’s giving me a ride,” Mitch says.

“Your mom is going to your London friend’s wedding?”

“No, my cousin’s. I’m heading there for pictures and the ceremony, but going to the other one for the reception.”

“You’re hitting up two weddings?” Auston asks, his eyebrows going way the fuck up.

“It happens,” Mitch says. “There are only so many weekends.”

“Never to anyone I know.”

“It’s not that uncommon.”

“Has it happened to you before?” Auston asks.

Mitch doesn’t answer, just gets up to look for his wallet.

“It has,” Auston calls out, laughing. “Wow, you go hard for wedding season.”

“Fuck off, at least I’m not doing double groomsman duty this time,” Mitch says.

“ _That’s_ happened to you before?”

“I have a lot of friends,” Mitch says in response.

“Did they make you wear matching suits? Matching ties?”

Mitch’s mind flashes back to changing in the back of a cramped Uber, even though he’d ordered an XL. “I made it work,” he says.

“Your life is a romantic comedy,” Auston states, matter-of-factly. “I bet you have a secret closet filled with ties from wedding parties you’ve been in.”

“Do not,” Mitch says, because it's a drawer, not a closet, so he's not technically lying. “What do you know about romantic comedies?”

“Enough to know you're living one,” Auston says.

“Fuck you. I'm hanging up now.”

“Congratulate the happy couples on my behalf,” Auston says, and then he hangs up before Mitch gets a chance to, because he’s terrible like that.

***

The thing is, Mitch used to like weddings a lot. He had a great time at the first, like, hundred weddings he went to – friends, family, booze, dancing, and lots of teary-eyed love confessions. Weddings are happy occasions, objectively, and Mitch respects that. He always goes without a date, because it’s not like he’s in a position to actually date people, and he doesn’t think he needs to bring some random person he barely knows just so he has someone to stand next to in pictures. Mitch has friends, and he’s good at making friends, and, worst case scenario, he can entertain some of the younger cousins.

It’s just that now, most of his friends are married or engaged or at least on their way to that, and Mitch has suddenly become the single friend. Or, like, The Single Friend™, the one who gets invited to dinner and grilled about his love life and set up on blind dates with girls he doesn’t want to date. It was fine when it was just Marty and Syd having him over, because Marty and Syd are older, and they were the first adults who hung out with him like an adult, and it was good. Marty and Syd never try to set him up, or question why he’s single, or rub their dumb, perfect relationship in his face. They just let him play with their kid and pet their dogs, and that’s that. It was also fine when it was just the older guys on the team, and maybe a little weird when Mo started doing it, but Mo’s always been kind of parental, so Mitch figured it was just that, but then Connor fucking Brown and his wife invited him over to dinner and kept talking up some girl they knew who they thought Mitch would love, and Mitch had to excuse himself from the table to text Auston, because that was next-level.

And like, he’s pretty sure his teammates would be fine if they knew that he doesn’t like girls. They’re all really decent dudes, even if they are jocks, and they would understand that he doesn’t want to deal with coming out to, like, the general public. People pretend it’s no big deal, that no one cares if you’re gay or straight or whatever, but Mitch remembers several Skype calls with Dylan, right after Connor came out, where he was so angry he was shaking, because guys wouldn’t stop landing their hardest hits on him. It could have been anything, in theory – the fact that he was too good and too young and Connor fucking McDavid – but Mitch knew, and Dylan did too, that there was only one real reason, and, well – yeah.

(That had been a lot of bullshit for Mitch too, because he fucking remembers sitting down with his agent and talking about coming out when Connor had mentioned that he was going to, and his agent had very politely said that it didn’t seem like a great idea, because of his “young following.” At the time, Mitch had smiled and nodded and agreed, then had a panic attack in his car before recounting the whole thing to Dylan via text.

Then he and Auston had gone out and gotten drunk, and the next day, Davo came out. Mitch fired his agent and tweeted his congratulations, because Connor McDavid is a goddamn hero, as far as Mitch is concerned.)

Even just coming out to the team would be this whole… thing. Like, he can picture sitting down at one of his friends' dinner tables and explaining to him that he can’t download Grindr anonymously, so dating’s not really an option. He can picture the pitying looks on their faces, like they’ve figured out the deep, dark secret that’s keeping Mitch single. He can picture all of it, and he hates it so fucking much. He’s not some tragic gay bachelor, and his teammates – his _straight_ teammates – shouldn’t get to treat him like their charity case, and he knows that’s exactly what they’d do.

So, Mitch can suck it up and attend events alone, because it’s what he would do anyway, and at least this way, he doesn’t have to think about a boyfriend he’d be leaving behind.

And it’s fine, it really is, until he’s standing to the side of the dance floor, watching everyone he knows look so goddamn happy and so goddamn in love as they sway to some slow, sappy song on the dance floor.

***

Auston’s in town for the next wedding, which is exactly a week after Mitch’s wedding double-header.

“How’s this one compare to those?” Auston asks, taking a sip of his whiskey. Mitch knows Auston hates whiskey, and only orders it because it seems like “the cool thing to order,” but he’s fascinated by the sight of Auston’s lips on the rim of the glass. Or, Auston’s lips in general.

He’s maybe a little too drunk.

“This is the worst one,” Mitch declares.

“Why?” Auston asks, raising his eyebrow.

“Because he was _our rookie’s rookie_.”

“What, not feeling like a proud father?”

Mitch shakes his head. “I’m still single, and our rookie’s rookie is getting married.”

“It’s your fault you’re still single, dude,” Auston says.

Mitch laughs at that, and it sounds maybe a little too bitter, because Auston looks kind of horrified. “Yeah, my own fault.” Mitch says.

“I  mean, they try and set you up and shit, right?” Auston says.

“They try to set me up with their friends. Not anyone I want to date,” Mitch says. “They don’t know what I want.”

“Well, you don’t tell them,” Auston points out.

“I can’t,” Mitch says simply.

“Why not?” Auston asks, and Mitch looks at him.

The thing is – if you’d asked Mitch at the start of his rookie year who the best teammate to come out to would have been, he would have said Mo or maybe James. By the end of it, he would’ve said Marty. But Auston is Mitch’s – well, officially, Mitch’s best friend is Marty, but calling Auston his “best single friend” seems disrespectful. He’s this other kind of best friend, really, the kind who he can and will make time for, but seems to always be there anyway, the guy who knows Mitch super well just from sheer time spent in each other’s presence. So, if you were to ask Mitch now, Auston’s name would be in heavy consideration.

Mitch isn’t coming out tonight, though, so he just says, “Some bullshit,” and proceeds to down his glass of prosecco, because he’s moping, apparently.

Auston looks worried, now. “Dude, are you, like, alright?”

“Of course,” Mitch says, plastering a smile to his face.

“Have you been this grumpy all summer?”

“No,” Mitch says truthfully. “Sorry, it’s just – too many weddings.”

“I feel that,” Auston says. “Well, not as many weddings, but feeling single and all that. My kid sister’s dating now, so. Only one left.”

“She is?” Mitch says, looking up.

Auston nods. “Met someone at college. I mean, it’s not… like, they’re young, but still. It’s, like, a legit relationship.”

“That’s cute, though,” Mitch says.

“I was, like, 7th wheeling my family,” Auston says, wincing. “Not super fun.”

“Well, I’m sure any one of our married friends has a number of nice girls they could set you up with. Or, I have a bunch of their numbers I could give you.”

It’s Auston’s turn to laugh at that. “I mean, I’m not really looking for a blind date, so I’ll pass, thanks,” he says. His phone lights up on the table, Mitch watches as he leans over to read it, the too-bright light illuminating his face. He’d gelled his hair back, but a loose strand falls forward anyway.

“Oh, wow,” Auston says, his brow furrowing.

“Hm?” Mitch says, trying to seem like he wasn’t just staring at Auston.

“Uh, McDavid’s engaged? Apparently?”

Mitch blinks once, twice, then – “What the fuck?”

“Apparently he put it on Insta, like, a few minutes ago.”

“No way,” Mitch says, and digs his phone out of his pocket. “If you’re bullshitting me–”

“I’m not, the photo already has a shitton of likes,” Auston says. “I wonder who it is.”

“Who?”

“The groom.”

Mitch doesn’t say anything to that, because, well, he knows, but then he opens up the post, and sees that it’s a picture of them holding fucking hands, captioned _He said yes! #neverdriftapart._

“They’re not even being subtle, jesus,” Mitch says, standing up. “I’ve gotta make a phone call.”

“Do you know who it is?” Auston says, but Mitch is already walking away.

“I’ll explain later,” he calls over his shoulder.

He honestly doesn’t expect Dylan to pick up, so he’s preparing for a voicemail when he hears Dylan say, “Hey, Marns.”

“Dude,” Mitch says.

“I was gonna text you, but then he was so excited to post the picture, I’m so sorry,” Dylan says.

“So you’re legit engaged?”

“Yeah.” Dylan sounds all dreamy, and it’s fucking weird, but also kind of adorable.

“Well, shit,” Mitch says. “Congratulations, seriously.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Dylan says. “I can’t talk now, because, like, everyone’s calling–”

“No worries,” Mitch says.

“But – one second, babe, I’m telling him–“ There’s shuffling on the other end. “Sorry, that was Davo. But come to brunch tomorrow, man.”

“Oh my god,” Mitch says, as it dawns on him that – “You’re going to ask me to be a groomsman, aren’t you.”

“Just – come to brunch.”

“Okay, but first tell me if you’re gonna ask me to be a groomsman.”

“Alright, fine, yes. But there’ll be other shit.”

“Alright, whatever, sure.”

“Sweet,” Dylan says. “Connor says hello.”

“Tell him I say hi back,” Mitch says. “And congratulations.”

“Will do,” Dylan says. “See you tomorrow?”

“For sure,” Mitch says, and then he hangs up.

And it’s… Mitch loves Dylan and Connor, and they’ve been together for a while, and he really should have seen this coming. Dylan’s not out yet, publicly, and that’ll be a thing he’ll have to deal with, but he gets to do it with Connor at his side, which will definitely be a bonus.

Mitch makes his way back to the table, where Auston’s still sitting, scrolling through his phone.

“Hey,” Mitch says.

“Hi,” Auston says. “You good?”

“I’m gonna be a groomsman,” Mitch says, then flops dramatically into the chair across from Auston, grabs Auston’s glass of whiskey, and takes a long sip. It burns as it goes down, and he makes a face. “Again.”

“Rough,” Auston says, and then he gives Mitch’s knee a consolatory pat.

He knows the gesture is meant to be, like, comforting, but Mitch flinches. “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Alright,” Auston says, looking disappointed.

Mitch figures that if Auston really wanted Mitch to stay, he could ask, but he doesn’t, so Mitch just heads to the bathroom and splashes some water on his face, then heads back out to say his goodbyes.

***

Jesse’s new address looks familiar, even though Mitch can’t figure out why until he pulls up to Auston’s building. At first, he thinks he’s given the cab driver the wrong address, but then he checks his phone, and, nope, this is definitely where Jesse lives now. Thankfully, the doorman at this hour doesn’t know Mitch, or at least, won’t say anything to Auston when he comes in later.

Jesse is a guy Mitch met by pure coincidence the summer after his second year, in line at a fuckin’ coffeeshop, no less. He’d been a student at U of T then, but he’d grown up in Chicago and didn’t know shit about hockey. He’s a fine guy, cute, probably too good for Mitch, but they hook up whenever neither of them is dating anybody, which really means whenever Jesse isn’t dating anybody, because Mitch is never dating anybody.

“Welcome,” Jesse says, stepping aside so Mitch can walk in.

“Nice place,” Mitch says. “I have a buddy who lives in this building.”

“Good stuff,” Jesse says. “It’s been a bit.”

“Yeah, well, my two best friends just got engaged,” Mitch says.

“I see,” Jesse says, and then Mitch kisses him, because that’s what he’s here to do.

They’ve done this plenty of times, even though it’s been a few months, and Jesse’s… fine. He knows what Mitch likes, and honestly, Mitch isn’t super picky, right now. He’s drunk, and he’s lonely, and he’s pretty sure he’s actually going to turn into a sad gay Katherine Heigl if he doesn’t change something in his life, like, stat.

“I’ve gotta get out of the closet,” Mitch says, when they’re done and Jesse’s already half-asleep.

“Not a bad idea,” Jesse says, and he doesn’t say anything else, because that’s not really what they do. “You can crash here, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Mitch says, and his eyes drift shut.

***

He wakes up the next morning with a hangover to the sound of his phone blaring out “I’m Coming Out” by Diana Ross, which means Dylan is calling.

“Jeez,” Jesse grumbles next to him. “You weren’t kidding about needing to get out of the closet.”

“S’Dylan,” Mitch says, rolling over and answering the call. “‘lo?”

“Brunch in an hour,” Dylan says. “You never actually confirmed the time. Do you need the address of the restaurant?”

“I know when fucking brunch with you is, asshole,” Mitch says. “It’s the same every time.”

“Excuse me for being thorough,” Dylan says.

“Yeah, because your boyfriend definitely didn’t ask you to call me,” Mitch says.

“Fiancé, now,” Dylan says.

“Yeah, that,” Mitch says. “Alright, I’ll be there soon.”

“You’re the greatest,” Dylan says, and then hangs up without actually saying goodbye, because they’re in the pre-manners stage of the morning.

“You have brunch?” Jesse asks.

“Yeah, in an hour,” Mitch says. “It’s right around the corner.”

“You can hang around for a bit, but I need a cigarette.”

Mitch doesn’t like to hang around when Jesse smokes, mostly because it would mean going out onto his porch and just sitting there awkwardly, so he says, “I’ll run down and get us coffee.”

“Cool,” Jesse says. “Starbucks is–”

“I know,” Mitch says, and then he gets up off the bed and starts to grab his clothing.

“Right, friend in the building,” Jesse says.

“Teammate,” Mitch clarifies. “So, like, work friend.”

“Jeez, this place is swanky if pro athletes live here.”

“He prefers to spend his money on clothes and not apartment shit,” Mitch says.

“So are you two close?” Jesse asks.

Mitch blinks. Jesse doesn’t usually ask about his friends, but Mitch has never known if that’s more of a casual hookup thing or a kinda-celebrity thing. “Uh, yeah, pretty close.”

“So does he know you–” Jesse says, and does a hand gesture. “With guys?”

“You mean that I’m gay?” He rolls his eyes. “It’s alright, you can say it, I’m not that much of a closet case,” he says. “And, uh, nope.” He debates whether to put on his wrinkled button-up from the night before, and decides on leaving it open and rolling the sleeves up, because he might as well commit to looking like a mess.

“Gotcha,” Jesse says. Then, he opens his pack and tucks a cigarette behind his ear.

“Still take it black?” Mitch asks, tying his shoes.

“Yep,” Jesse says. “Keys are on the nightstand.”

“Cool,” Mitch says. “Be back in a bit.”

“Godspeed,” Jesse says.

Jesse’s place is a studio, so the layout is different from Auston’s two-bedroom, even though Auston doesn’t need a two-bedroom, because he’s the only one living there. Still, it’s weird walking through the hallways differently, and Mitch almost gets lost trying to find the elevator.

Really, he’s only here a few times a week at most, which – well, it’s a lot, but it’s not often enough that he, like, knows Auston’s neighbors or anything. Still, he’s kind of paranoid as he makes his way out of the building, even though he’s wearing sunglasses and a Cubs hat he’d stolen off of Jesse’s nightstand.

He knows it’s Sam’s shift at the door, and he braces himself to walk past quickly and avoid conversation, but when he gets to the lobby, he sees it’s someone else, which is fortunate, because Sam is his favorite, and he really wasn’t looking forward to having to ignore him.

Starbucks is busy, because it’s 9am on a Sunday, and Mitch is half-expecting to see Auston there, which is ridiculous, because Auston’s a freak who wakes up early to exercise every morning at 8, and is probably at the gym right now. He gets a few looks while he’s in line, but he thinks the Cubs hat throws them off, or at least makes it clear that he’s definitely in disguise right now.

He walks back into the building, gives a brief nod to not-Sam, and is pretty much in the clear until he’s waiting for the elevator and hears a very familiar voice say an awkward, “Hey,” to the doorman.

“Back from your run, Mr. Matthews?” the doorman says. Which – shoot, right, Auston runs outside in the offseason, then goes to the gym after. Mitch probably should have anticipated that, except it’s probably weird that he knows Auston’s entire schedule by heart, but whatever.

“Ha, yeah,” Auston says.

“Have a nice day,” the doorman says politely.

“You too,” Auston says, and then he walks up behind Mitch.

For a second, Mitch has this insane hope that Auston won’t recognize him, but then, Auston coughs and says, “Marns?”

“Uh,” Mitch says, and gulps. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Auston says, furrowing his brow. “Why are you in my building?”

“Visiting a friend,” Mitch says.

“A friend,” Auston repeats.

“Someone I’ve… known, for a bit,” Mitch says. “Just moved here.”

“I see.” Auston nods, and Mitch feels like he’s been caught.

The elevator arrives, and they both step in. It’s awkward and quiet, especially when Mitch presses the button two floors below Auston’s, and Auston just sort of stares at the illuminated button.

Mitch clears his throat, and then Auston’s staring at _him_.

“So, your friend,” Auston says

Mitch doesn’t think he’s ever been in an elevator this slow before. “Yep.”

“How do you know them?” Auston asks.

“Just from, like, around,” Mitch says. _Jesus, Marner, sound sketchier,_ he thinks.

“So last night, when you were talking about being single–”

“I’m single,” Mitch says. “Really fucking single, promise.”

“Uh, you… don’t really look single.”

Which is a fair point, because Mitch currently looks like four different natural disasters combined into one hungover hockey player. “We’re not dating,” he says.

“But you’re–”

“Sometimes,” Mitch says, his face going red.  

Auston nods. “So why aren’t you?” he asks.

“Why aren’t we what?”

“Dating.”

“It’s complicated,” Mitch says, and thankfully, the elevator arrives at Jesse’s floor.

“Alright,” Auston says, still looking skeptical.

“See ya,” Mitch says, and as the elevator doors close, he sees Auston give him a wave, a confused expression on his face.

When Mitch gets back to Jesse’s place, he puts the coffee on the nightstand.

“I’m back,” he yells, out in the direction of the porch.

“Cool,” Jesse says, walking inside. He smells like cigarettes, and he’s yet to put on a shirt. “You’re a hero, really.”

“I do what I can,” Mitch says dryly.

“So, run into your colleague?” Jesse asks, taking a sip.

“Actually, yeah,” Mitch says. “In the elevator.”

“Oh, shit, what’d you say?”

“Visiting a friend,” Mitch says.

“And he bought that?”

“It wasn’t a lie.”

“Technically,” Jesse says. “But–”

“He kind of… called me out,” Mitch admits.

“How’d that go down?”

“I dunno, I sort of left before we could talk about it.”

“I see,” Jesse says.

“Do I really look that… y’know,” Mitch says.

“What?” Jesse asks.

“Like I just hooked up?” Mitch says.

Jesse gives him a once-over before saying, “Yeah, kinda.”

“Great, now that’ll be a whole thing at engagement brunch,” Mitch says.

“Oh, this is an _engagement_ brunch you’re going to,” Jesse says.

“Yeah,” Mitch says. “So exciting, right?”

“I mean, for them yeah,” Jesse says.

Mitch sighs. “I should probably find a way to look, like, presentable.”

“I’d let you borrow, but I doubt my stuff would fit. You’re pretty tall.”

“Ha,” Mitch says. “Tell that to my teammates. They say I’m tiny.”

“You? Tiny?” Jesse looks legitimately confused.

“I mean, I’m not, like, short? But I’m skinny.”

“Okay, well, what about your friend who’s my neighbor? Would he have something you can borrow?”

“Nah, he’s fuckin’ huge,” Mitch says. “Wait. I think I left a pair of pants at his place.”

Jesse raises an eyebrow. “You leave pants at your friend’s apartment?”

“I’m over there a lot,” Mitch says, kinda sheepish.

“Interesting,” Jesse says.

“Don’t judge,” Mitch says. “We’ve been teammates for, like, five years.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Jesse says, holding up his hands.

Mitch rolls his eyes. “You implied it. I’m gonna head up there, though.”

“Do what you gotta,” Jesse says.

Mitch presses a polite kiss to his mouth and says goodbye, because Jesse really is a good dude, and he deserves to be treated well, even by his lame, closeted casual hookup.

He’s too twitchy to take the elevator, so he uses the fire stairs instead, bounding up two at a time. When he gets to Auston’s floor, he actually has to stop and make himself take a deep breath before he knocks.

Auston answers the door dripping wet and wearing a towel, which really doesn’t do much to make Mitch’s heart stop beating so fucking fast.

“Oh,” Auston says. “Uh, hi.”

“Do you usually not bother to put clothes on before you open the door, or am I special?” Mitch says.

“I have a peephole,” Auston says, rolling his eyes.

“Aw, so I am special,” Mitch says, because joke-flirting with Auston is easy and always fun.

Sure enough, Auston turns red. “What do you want?” he says, stepping aside so Mitch can walk in.

“Do I have clothes here?” Mitch asks.

“Uh, yeah?” Auston says, closing the door. “Why?”

“Because I have to go to brunch with Stromer and Davo in, like, twenty minutes, and I don’t wanna show up looking all – y’know.” He gestures to himself.

“Ah,” Auston says. “Stromer and Davo?”

“Uh,” Mitch says. “Yeah, it’s – fuck it, whatever, they’re probably telling people soon, but yeah. They’re getting hitched.”

“How long’ve they been together?” Auston asks.

“Forever,” Mitch says. “Since, like, Juniors.”

“Shit, good for them,” Auston says.

“They’re adorable,” Mitch agrees.

“So, how’re you – y’know.”

“What?”

“How are you holding up?”

Mitch shrugs. “It’s not that different.”

“Last night you ran out of Luker’s wedding early to come visit your ‘friend’ after finding out you’d be in their wedding,” Auston says.

“I can’t exactly complain,” Mitch says. “I mean, it’s an honor, or whatever. Listen, just – can I have my pants? I really want to get this brunch over with.”

“What a sentence,” Auston says, raising his eyebrows, but he goes into his room. Mitch follows, and tries not to stare at Auston’s ridiculous back muscles too much. That leads to his eyes drifting downward, which is decidedly worse, so he just looks at the ceiling. Whatever, water is wet and Auston is fun to look at.

“Can I have a shirt too?” Mitch says.

“What’s wrong with the shirt you’re wearing?” Auston asks.

“It’s all wrinkled,” Mitch says. “And it’ll look weird.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Auston says. He rifles through his drawers and throws Mitch his pants, and Mitch starts to change into them. Auston’s eyes linger when Mitch unbuckles his belt, but not for too long, so Mitch assumes Auston’s not, like, weirded out by him taking off his clothing.

“How’s this shirt?” Auston says, and Mitch sees that he’s holding up an old USNTDP top.

Mitch rolls his eyes. “Absolutely not.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Auston says. “It’ll be something to talk about.”

“I’m pretty sure their wedding will be something to talk about,” Mitch says.

“You can wear it ironically,” Auston suggests.

“Irony is your thing, not mine,” Mitch says.

“I might still have that Harambe sweater lying around,” Auston says. “If you’d prefer that.”

Mitch doesn’t say anything, just walks over and grabs the shirt out of Auston’s hands. “You’re the worst person I’ve ever met in my entire life,” he says, and then he starts unbuttoning his shirt. “Also, are you gonna get dressed?”

“Nah,” Auston says. “I’m incorporating naked yoga into my workout.”

It takes a lot of effort on Mitch’s part to not picture Auston doing yoga naked. “Is that what the kids call it these days?”

“I’m serious, dude. It’s a good idea.”

“You’re totally bullshitting me.”

“Not a bit.”

“You’re just an exhibitionist,” Mitch says, pulling on his t-shirt as Auston shrugs. “Okay, well, have fun with that, I’m going to brunch. If you’re not naked when I come back to get my stuff, I’m gonna be very disappointed.”

“I’ll probably be done by then, but I’ll be naked anyway,” Auston deadpans, and Mitch flips him off for no real reason as he walks out the door.

***

“You’re late,” Mitch says, as Connor and Dylan walk over to the table. They’re in their usual spot, which is a private room in the back of the restaurant that Connor has a standing reservation for every Sunday morning in the summer.

“Sorry, sorry,” Connor says, genuinely apologetic, but Dylan rolls his eyes.

“You walked in two minutes ago,” he says, sitting down. “Also, what’s with the shirt?”

“Matts,” Mitch says simply. “What’s up with you two, besides being engaged?”

“Well, I think the engagement deserves a bit of attention,” Dylan says, arms crossed. “Like, a congratulations hug, at least?”

Mitch smiles, then gets up and squeezes them both individually, before pulling them both in at once. “I’m really, really happy for you,” he says, even though he feels something weird in his chest as he says it.

“Thanks,” Connor says, breaking the hug and sitting down at the table, as Mitch and Dylan follow suit.

“You are cool with being a groomsman, right?” Dylan asks Mitch. “I mean, you didn’t actually agree to it.”

“Of course,” Mitch says, because he couldn’t say no to them. The thing is, as tired as he is of wedding season, he really does love them, and he does want to be a part of their wedding. It makes him sad, a bit, but Mitch is a romantic at heart, and they deserve a happy marriage.

“I mean,” Dylan says, and then he bites his lip. “Okay, so, here’s the thing: we want to get married soon.”

“Like, how soon?” Mitch says.

“Like, two months from now?” Connor says.

Mitch blinks. “Two months?”

“Yeah, I don’t want something really big, and we sort of want to be married by the time the season starts.”

“Jeez. Well, good luck to you guys,” Mitch says. “I’ll be there, though.”

“Thanks,” Connor says.

“Seriously, it means a lot to us,” Dylan says. “Like– you know.”

“I will give an embarrassing speech, so don’t get too sappy,” Mitch says. “I have, like, a decade of material.”

“I expect nothing less,” Dylan says, and Mitch recognizes it as the challenge it is.

“You’re on,” Mitch says. “You’ve gotta promise me you won’t be annoying when you’re married, though. Or, not any more than you are now.”

“Duh,” Dylan says.

“I’m serious,” Mitch says. “No inviting me over to try and set me up.”

“They’re still doing that?” Dylan says.

“Yep,” Mitch says. “I swear to god, I don’t even have to cook anymore, between married friends and weddings.”

“I would never cook for you,” Dylan says solemnly.

“Why do they keep trying to set you up? Have you ever, like, actually gone on a date?” Connor asks, a concerned look on his face.

“Nope,” Mitch says. “It’s just – I dunno, they know I’m single, and not, like, livin’ it up as a bachelor, so they keep hinting at it. It’s annoying.”

“Maybe they just think you don’t like being single,” Connor suggests.

“Because he doesn’t,” Dylan says.

“Okay, but they do the same thing to Matts, and he’s fine being single,” Mitch says. “So I’m pretty sure married people are just annoying.”

“Auston keeps turning them down too?” Connor asks.

“Yeah, he’s, like, not looking for anything serious, I guess,” Mitch says.

“But you are,” Dylan says.

“I mean, I’m not looking,” Mitch says. “Or– I dunno, I was thinking about maybe coming out–”

“Wait, what?” Connor says, leaning forward so fast that Mitch swears he can feel a breeze from it.

“Dude, what the hell, you don’t just drop that in the middle of a sentence,” Dylan says.

“I thought this was your engagement brunch, why are we talking about me?” Mitch asks.

“This is a wedding planning procrastination brunch at heart,” Dylan says.

“When did you decide this?” asks Connor. “Have you told anyone?”

“I mean – I haven’t decided yet. It’s, like, a very tentative idea.”

“It’s a good one,” Dylan says. “A great one. The best idea you’ve ever had.”

“Jeez, say what you really feel,” Mitch says. “I don’t know, I just – I hate coming out to people.”

“I’m not gonna issue a press release or anything,” Dylan says. “Just gonna get gay married and hope people get the idea.”

“They might think it’s a friendship thing,” Mitch says. “You could just be really good teammates from juniors.”

“Linemates to life partners,” Connor says. “I like it.”

“You can just do it in a Tweet,” Dylan says. “Or on Insta. Something punny.”

“No puns,” Mitch says.

“Yes puns,” Dylan says. “Are you not gonna include puns in your speech at our wedding?”

“No, because I’m actually funny,” Mitch says. “Are you gonna have puns in your vows?”

Dylan smiles and does this amused shrug, and Connor looks horrified, and Mitch laughs because it’s just so _them._

But it also – it’s hard, watching them be so cute, and happy, and together, and just – so sure of each other, in a way Mitch isn’t sure of anything, besides hockey.

It puts a knot in his stomach, and Dylan and Connor don’t question it when he leaves brunch a little early.  

***

“Open up, Matthews,” Mitch says, banging on the door of Auston’s apartment. “I’m returning your shirt and having a crisis.”

He hears rustling on the other side of the door, and when Auston opens it, Mitch can see he’s on the phone.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, she just needs some time to cool down,” Auston’s saying. Mitch walks over to Auston’s couch and sits down, scrolling through his phone and pretending not to listen to the conversation. “It happens. Just apologize, okay? Talk it out.” Whoever’s on the other end of the line says something, and Auston snorts. “Alright, whatever. Listen, I have to go, but–” he pauses again. “Yeah, I think so.” More talking on the other end, and then. “You’re welcome. Love you too. Bye,” he says, and he hangs up.

“Sorry,” Mitch says, immediately guilty. “I didn’t–”

“It’s fine,” Auston says. “Just my sister.”

“Ah,” Mitch says. “Everything good?”

“Yeah, just, y’know. First relationship stuff.”

“Alright,” Mitch says.

There’s a second of awkward silence, and then Auston says, “So, uh, you’re having a crisis?”

“Oh, yeah,” Mitch says. “Or, we can do the shirt thing–”

“Mitch,” Auston says, serious.

Mitch sighs. “Right. So, uh, they’re having the wedding soon.”

“McDavid and Strome?” Auston asks.

Mitch nods. “And, like – I don’t know. I didn’t think I’d be single at this point, I guess.”

“You’re 25,” Auston says. “We’re hardly old.”

“But I don’t – I can’t–” and suddenly, he just – he can’t. He hasn’t had to do this in so long, and maybe he’s rusty, or maybe it’s just hard, but either way, the words catch in his throat. “Shit,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut. “Okay, actually, can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah, sure,” Auston says, his voice gentler than Mitch is used to hearing it.

“Sorry, it’s just–”

“It’s weird, man, yeah. I – I get it, I guess.”

“You guess,” Mitch echoes. “Can we just watch TV or something?”

Auston nods, and puts on something mindless. He stretches his arms over the back of the couch, which, in Mitch-and-Auston speak, translates to an invitation to cuddle. Mitch accepts, and lets himself zone out into the TV.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he must, because the next thing he knows, he’s lying down on the couch with a blanket over him, and Auston is doing a handstand against the wall.

“What time is it?” Mitch asks, his voice sleepy.

“Like, 2? You weren’t asleep that long.”

“You know, if you’re against the wall, you’re not actually holding up all your body weight.”

“No shit,” Auston says. “I was gonna try something for flexibility, didn’t wanna fall.”

“Well in that case, don’t let me stop you,” Mitch says, sitting up.

Auston takes a breath, and on the exhale, lets his legs fall to either side, giving Mitch an excellent view of Auston’s thighs.

“Impressive,” he says.

“You should see me when I’m naked,” Auston says. It’s supposed to be a quip, but his voice is strained.

“Would now be a bad time to mention that I’m gay?” Mitch says, and Auston doesn’t quite topple, but he does gracefully exit the handstand very, very quickly.

“Uh, was that a joke?” Auston asks. He’s still catching his breath, and his hair is falling into his face, which is currently red and kind of shiny.

Mitch shakes his head. “Nope,” he says. “Or, well, yes, but the gay part is real.”

“Oh,” Auston says. “Cool. Sorry, just–”

“Do what you gotta, man,” Mitch says, lying back down on the couch, still not fully awake, because napping always throws him off.

Auston takes a few minutes to recover while Mitch browses Instagram, and Mitch forgets for a bit that this is kind of a big deal, until Auston sits back down next to him and says, “So, you’re gay.”

“Yep.”

“How long have you, uh, known this?”

“Since I was pretty young,” Mitch says. “I mean, it’s not – a few people know, but not a ton.”

“Not Marty? Or Mo?”

Mitch shakes his head. “No one on the team. Or, you do, now, but other than that, no one else.”

“Oh,” Auston says.

“Don’t make this weird,” Mitch says, a little too tired to be polite about it. “Like, if you’re–”

“I won’t,” Auston says. “I promise. I’m just thinking.”

“What about?”

“Like – they keep trying to set you up with girls.”

“Yeah,” Mitch says, cringing. “It’s… pretty awful.”

“Wow, yeah,” Auston says.

“But it’s – it’s fine, y’know, just – I’m gay, and tired of, like, pretending I’m not.”

“That’s… kind of a big thing to not tell people,” Auston says.

“Are you, like, mad?” Mitch asks.

“No, no,” Auston says quickly. “Just – that sounds kinda shitty. I dunno.”

“What does?”

“Not telling people. For like, years.”

“It’s not – it wasn’t that bad.” Which is a lie, really, because when it sucked, it was really bad, but generally, he’s been alright.

“I mean, if there’s anything that’s been, like, particularly… I dunno, terrible, I’m, like, sorry.”

Mitch shrugs. “It’s fine.”

Neither of them says anything for a second, but then Auston says, “So are you gonna… y’know, tell the rest of the guys?”

“I guess,” Mitch says, looking up at the ceiling. “It’s gonna be this whole thing, though.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Auston says.

“But it does,” Mitch says. “Like, I didn’t say anything for five years, and now I’m just gonna, like, bring it up?”

“I mean, like – I don’t think anyone will judge?” Auston bites his lip. “And it makes some things make sense, I guess.”

“What do you mean?” Mitch asks.

“Like, it checks out? You didn’t, like, date, for 5 years, and–” a look of realization crosses Auston’s face. “Wait, your friend from last night– is that… you know. Are you two, like, a thing? Boyfriends?”

“Nah,” Mitch shakes his head. “Just a guy I met. That stuff was all true. He’s, like, the only guy I’ve hooked up with for the past– I dunno, 3 years?”

“Seriously?” Auston says.

“It’s, like, a lot of work, man,” Mitch says.

“I don’t know, I’d believe it if you had some, like, secret gay double life, where you went out and just, like, killed the dick game.” He’s smiling, just a bit, and Mitch smiles back, mostly out of relief.

“Okay, firstly, thank you,” Mitch says. “Secondly, I do live a secret gay double life. So much brunch with Stromer and Davo, dude.”

“Your secret gay double life is brunch?” Auston asks. “Is brunch a gay thing?”

“Yes,” Mitch says. “Wow, do you know anything about gay people?”

“Apparently not,” Auston says.

“Alright, well, Eggs Benedict is an important part of our culture,” Mitch says.

Auston leans back and extends his arm along the back of the sofa again, and Mitch is kind of surprised, but it seems like Auston’s the one who wants closeness right now.

Mitch finds that… nice, and kind of reassuring, so instead of leaning onto Auston’s chest, he says, “C’mere, I wanna play with your hair.”

Auston seems content to put his head in Mitch’s lap and let Mitch ramble on about mimosas, so they spend the rest of the afternoon like that.

***

Here’s a thing Mitch has always liked about Auston: even though he’s a dork and 100% fake-chill, 100% of the time, he’s always been calm, steady, trustworthy when it counts.

Mitch doesn’t want coming out to mean that nothing changes. He _wants_ some major changes in his life, hopefully positive ones, but just – it’s nice, that things with Auston don’t change that much, because things with Auston are good, and Mitch doesn’t want to fuck that up.

Not that it would be Mitch’s fault if Auston started acting weird, now, but just – Mitch is happy that things are easy with them, and Mitch knows that things are gonna be hard for him, and already have been hard, so.

He thinks he’s allowed to anchor himself to this one thing that’s easy, is all.

***

“Is the fact that we’re both invited to this thing a coincidence or a miracle?” Mitch asks Auston as they get ready for Mitch’s family friend’s wedding in Mitch’s apartment.

“Neither,” Auston says. “I only know her because of you.”

“You do?” Mitch asks, surprised.

“Yes? Your mom set us up a few years ago?” Auston says, running a comb through his hair.

“Seriously?” Mitch asks. “No one told me about this.”

Auston only shrugs. “I think it was when we were rookies.”

“You went on a date when we were rookies?” Mitch says. “Like, not a Tinder thing, an actual, polite date? Set up by my mom?”

“Your mom gave me her number, I set up the date myself. Went out to dinner and everything. Twice, actually.”

“So this is you attending the wedding of an ex,” Mitch says. “Fascinating.”

“Are you gonna be annoying about this the whole night?” Auston asks. A few strands of hair fall forward, despite what Mitch thinks are very valiant efforts with a comb, and Auston makes a disgruntled face at that. Mitch sort of wants to tell him to keep it that way, because Auston’s hair looks best when it’s not pushed all the way back, but he can’t picture any way to say that which wouldn’t be weird, so he bites his tongue.

“I’m just trying to be a supportive friend,” Mitch chirps instead.

“She’s not, like, an ex,” Auston says. “Two dates a billion years ago doesn’t count.”

“But you’re still friends with her?”

“I mean, yeah? We play golf together.”

“That much I knew,” Mitch says. “Just didn’t realize my mom introduced you.”

“Yeah,” Auston says. “Guess she figured we’d get along.”

“Wasn’t wrong,” Mitch points out.

“Nope,” Auston says. “Glad you’re going to this, though. Would’ve been weird to go alone.”

“Yeah,” Mitch says, because he knows the feeling, and Auston hates mingling, so it’s probably, like, ten times worse.

Mitch’s mom had insisted on driving them all, because the idea of a bunch of people calling different cabs to go to the same place offends her on a moral level, and when they see her, she makes some comment on being a ‘handsome pair’ that makes the tips of Auston’s ears turn red.

 _she doesn’t think this is a date btw,_ Mitch texts Auston across the backseat as his mom and dad bicker over directions.

 _???_ Auston texts back, and then gives Mitch a confused look.

 _idk she made it seem like she did,_ Mitch says, and then he’s worried, because he doesn’t want Auston to think that Mitch thinks this is a date.

 _ig, its fine tho, we r a handsome pair tbh ,_ Auston texts back, and Mitch smiles when he reads it, then looks up to find that Auston’s smiling back at him.

It’s a nice moment. A lot of moments with Auston these days are nice, because Auston’s been, like, surprisingly good about gay stuff, and Mitch finds himself smiling a lot more than he has been this summer. He’s even excited about this wedding, and it’s not even the wedding of someone he cares about a ton – he knows Mia, sure, but in the distant way that kids of parents who are friends know each other. Auston’s probably closer with her than Mitch is, and it’s nice that Mitch won’t have to feel like a child clinging to his parents the entire time, or be forced to mingle. Honestly, it sort of makes him understand the appeal of having a date to a wedding.

Not that Auston is, like, a date. Just – one person who he can sort of default to, instead of a group of distant friends, or various family members. Someone who gets him, too, who knows him well, and isn’t part of a couple and obligated to do couple-y things.

And it still kind of hurts, being single and not really having a say in it, but being single with Auston is fun, too.

The wedding itself is kind of nice, and Auston and Mia must be closer than Mitch realized, because he gets misty-eyed during the ceremony, and actually gives her a hug when he greets her afterward, a long one, where she whispers something in his ear that makes him laugh and turn red.

Mitch feels… weirdly jealous, even though she literally just got married to someone else, and they aren’t even really exes.

“I didn’t realize you knew her so well,” Mitch says.

Auston shrugs. “I have some friends outside the team.”

“Guess so,” Mitch says, and then the waiter comes by with a tray of champagne flutes, and he reaches to get one for himself, except then Auston grabs one for him too, and Mitch blushes as Auston awkwardly holds it out to him.

“Sorry,” Auston says.

“It’s cool,” Mitch says. “I mean, thanks. Guess chivalry isn’t dead.”

Instead of laughing, like Mitch expects him to, Auston just bites his lip, then gives Mitch a small smile and says, “Told you I was a polite date.”

Mitch feels weirdly overwhelmed by that, even though Auston isn’t his date, and he’s just bantering, except it’s really weird banter, not his usual snark. He looks vulnerable, too, nervous even, and if this wasn’t Auston, wasn’t a teammate who Mitch knew inside and out, it might be… something else.

But it’s Auston, so–  

“A glass of champagne does not a good date make,” Mitch responds, and he probably imagines the flash of disappointment he sees on Auston’s face before it’s replaced by his usual wry smile.

“Tough customer,” Auston says, and they fall back into something familiar.

The rest of the night is fun, and Mitch is kind of glued to Auston’s side, but Auston’s sort of glued to his, too, and Mitch introduces him to an endless parade of countless family friends. They’re seated next to each other for dinner, and they end up signing a few autographs for some little kids, whose parents apologize profusely.

“We’re happy to,” Auston reassures them. “Or, I am, can’t vouch for him.” It’s a terrible joke, but everyone laughs politely at it anyway, Mitch included.

“It’s my pleasure, really,” Mitch says, and he means it, too.

It’s just – he’s in a good mood at a wedding, for the first time in a while. It’s like, being out to even one person has just, like, flipped a switch in him, and now he’s not just trying to have a fun time, he’s actually, honestly enjoying things.

His mom is on the dance floor with his dad, swaying back and forth to some sweet oldies song, and, on a whim, Mitch goes up to them, taps his dad on the shoulder, and very seriously asks if it’s okay if he interrupts them, then holds out a hand to his mom.

“You’re in a good mood tonight,” she says as she accepts.

Mitch shrugs. “I dunno. It’s fun. With Matts, and stuff.”

“So, Auston?” she asks, raising her eyebrows, and Mitch realizes that he might’ve misinterpreted her ‘handsome pair’ comment from earlier.

“He’s just a friend,” Mitch says. His mom knows he’s gay in, like, the most abstract way possible, and they almost never talk about this stuff, but he’s kind of surprised that she thinks he’d bring his teammate as a date to a wedding in front of her and just… not tell her.

“Alright,” she says, clearly skeptical, and Mitch rolls his eyes.

“Didn’t you try and set him up with the bride?” Mitch says.

“Wh – oh! Years ago, yes.”

“Why?”

“Well, I thought they were both nice kids, and he seemed… lonely,” she says. “I thought they might get along well.”

“Well, you were right about that,” Mitch says.

“A mother knows,” she says, smiling. “Speaking of, I think your father is taking a video.”

Mitch glances over his shoulder to see his dad’s phone pointed at the two of them, and Auston’s next to him, looking at the screen with this amused smile. Mitch flashes them a smile, twirls her, then lets her twirl him before he attempts to dip her.

By the end of it, she’s laughing, his father is probably already planning to send the video to everyone he knows, and Auston’s smile is even wider

“Didn’t know you were such a dancer,” Auston says, handing Mitch the drink he’d been dutifully guarding once the song changes. He looks so fucking pleased, and Mitch hasn’t smiled like this in ages.  

“I have my moments,” Mitch says as he takes his glass. “Hey, this is… good.”  

“What, the champagne?” Auston asks. His cheeks have been slightly pink all night, but they get a bit darker when he meets Mitch’s eye.

“No, this is prosecco. I meant, like, this,” Mitch says, gesturing between the two of them. “Y’know. Having someone to – to hang out with, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Auston says, and it’s that same small smile from earlier. It’s still a lot, and still confusing, but Mitch is starting to like it.

“You’re a really good not-date,” Mitch says, and he tries to give Auston the same smile in return.

Auston’s face does something weird, and Mitch thinks he might’ve crossed a line for a second, but then he’s smiling again. “I’m very good at not-dating people. Ask the bride.”

Mitch snorts, and takes another sip of his drink.

***

“You and Matthews were cute last night,” Dylan says the next day, as Mitch walks into brunch. Connor is sitting next to him, passively scrolling on his phone, but he holds a hand up in greeting when Mitch walks in.

“Saw our snaps?” Mitch says. “Yeah, we’re adorable.”

“Why did you go to a wedding with him?” Dylan asks.

Mitch shrugs. “We were both invited. I dunno, it was really fun.”

“So what’s the deal there? Are you guys, like, y’know,” Dylan says, and then makes a vague hand gesture.

“What are you saying?” Mitch says, and for whatever reason he feels himself blush, a little.

“He wants to know if it was a thing,” Connor says. “Like, a _thing_ thing.”

“You guys are so fucking vague,” Mitch says.

“Oh my god, are you or are you not potentially dating Auston Matthews?” Dylan asks. “That clear enough for you?”

Mitch’s eyes kind of bug out for a second. “What? No, he’s straight, what the fuck.”

“I’m just asking,” Dylan says, holding up his hands defensively. “It seemed like you two were… I dunno. Close.”

“We’ve been teammates for half a decade, so yeah, I hope we’re close,” Mitch says, rolling his eyes.

“Listen, you came out to him, and then you went to a wedding with him and took a shitton of flirty snaps. It’s not, like, that ridiculous,” Connor says, using his mediator voice.

Mitch wants to protest that it _is,_ because it’s him and Auston, but then he thinks back to his mom calling them a handsome pair, and he doesn’t think that argument would hold water. He figures Connor and Dylan are in kind of a love-bubble, right now, so they're forgetting that their situation is, like, a one-in-a-million kind of thing.

“I mean, he’s definitely straight. I dunno, man, it was a fun wedding,” Mitch says.

Dylan and Connor exchange a glance, which means they’re doing their annoying form of couple’s wordless communication, and Mitch has to bite back a sigh, because he really does love them.

***

 _You can do this,_ Mitch thinks. _He loves you. His daughter calls you Uncle Mitchy. It’s gonna be fine._

Marty opens the door, his usual welcoming smile on his face. “Hey,” he says, and pulls Mitch in for a bro hug. “What’s up, man?”

“Oh, you know,” Mitch says, and he must look nervous, because Marty’s smile fades.

“Is everything… alright?” Marty asks.

Mitch shrugs. “Uh, can I come in?”

Marty nods, and he’s furrowing his brow as Mitch walks in, slipping off his shoes.

“I – um, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Mitch says. “And I don’t really – it’s a big conversation type thing.”

“Should I get us beer?” Marty asks.

“All you have is cider, but sure,” Mitch says.

Marty shrugs, but doesn’t deny it, and Mitch tries to get comfortable on the couch as Marty leaves and comes back with two bottles of Angry Orchard and an old Islanders bottle opener.

“Jeez, you still have this,” Mitch says as Marty passes it to him.

Marty shrugs, sitting down next to Mitch on the couch. “It still works, right?”

“Doesn’t it make you, like – I dunno,” Mitch says, because Marty doesn’t really talk about New York stuff, and Mitch feels weird bringing it up, all of a sudden.

“It was years ago,” Marty says, smiling a bit. “I think I’m over it.”

“Gotcha,” Mitch says, because he’s having one of those moments where it really hits him just how long he’s been playing. Like, he’s pretty sure he was a rookie a couple of years ago, except it’s been more than 5 years – which is, like, half a decade – since Marty was traded to the Leafs.

“So, what’s up?” Marty says, and Mitch realizes he’s been spacing out.

Mitch sighs. “I have something to tell you.”

“Alright,” Marty says.

“So,” Mitch says. “You know how I don’t really date people.”

“Yeah.”

“And it’s always just been – like, I’m not, like, against the idea of relationships, but it just, like, hasn’t happened?”

“Right.”

“Well,” Mitch sighs. “That’s, like, not actually true? Because it’s like – I can’t really get out there and meet people, because I don’t – I’m not into girls.” He’s staring at the drink in his hand, and, absently, takes a sip. “So, yeah.”

Marty’s quiet for a second. “You’re not into girls, then you’re into…”

“Guys,” Mitch says.

“So, you’re… you’re gay,” Marty says.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Mitch says.

“Oh,” Marty says.

It’s painfully silent for a moment, so Mitch says, “Can you, like – like, say something, man?”

“Sorry,” Marty says. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to – I was just trying to figure out the right thing to say.”

“Right, but I’m just trying to figure out if you’re gonna tell me to get out of your house, or something,” Mitch says.

Marty startles at that. “What the fuck? No.”

Mitch shrugs. “You never know.”

“Jesus, kid,” Marty says. “No, I was just – have you known? For a while?”

Mitch nods. “I haven’t told a ton of people.”

“But some?”

“A couple, yeah.”

“Alright,” Marty says. “Well, uh, thanks for telling me? And congratulations.”

Mitch nods, still feeling supremely awkward, and also still kind of on edge. “Thanks, man.”

“So, uh, why now?”

“Huh?”

“Like, why are you coming out, like, now?” Marty asks.

“I mean,” Mitch says. “It’s – it’s a lot of work. I’m just, like, tired, and I figure with Davo getting married and all that, if it goes public, people, like, won’t care as much.”

“Oh yeah, I heard about that wedding,” Marty says.

“Dude, I’m in that wedding,” Mitch says. “It’s gonna be lit, I’m happy for them.”

“Sweet,” Marty says. “So, it’s – it’s not because you’re dating someone.”

“I’m not,” Mitch says. “Still, like, bitter and single.”

Marty barks out a laugh at that. “Bitter?”

“Fuck you, I’m so bitter,” Mitch says, smiling, and he feels himself relax, a little.

“You might be pissed, but you’re not bitter,” Marty says. “Like, if you’re coming out – are you gonna start, like, dating, do you think?”

Mitch shrugs. “I mean, hopefully? I wouldn’t even know where to start, though.”

“What, you don’t have, like, Tinder?”

“Do people still use Tinder?”

“You tell me,” Marty says.

Mitch rolls his eyes. “I didn’t manage to avoid getting outed for this long by having dating apps.”

“Fair enough,” Marty says. “But, like, if you’re planning to come out anyway, you might as well. Like, anonymously, for now.”

“What’s the point, if I’m being anonymous?”

“Just – you know, baby steps. I dunno,” Marty says. “Just a suggestion. I’d offer to set you up, but–”

“Yeah, no,” Mitch says.

“Exactly,” Marty says.

Mitch bites his lip. “I’ll think about it,” he says.

“Sweet,” Marty says, giving him a small smile. “By the way, Syd wanted to know if you’re staying for dinner.”

“You cooking?”

Marty shakes his head. “Takeout.”

“Then yeah,” Mitch says, smirking, and Marty rolls his eyes, smiles, and shoves him.

***

Connor and Dylan take Mitch to a gay bar, and somehow Auston ends up tagging along. Mitch hadn’t asked Auston to come, but Auston had kind of offered, in his low-key Auston way, and Mitch is always happy to not be the only single person in a group.

It’s going fine, though, Mitch thinks. He and Dylan throw back a few drinks and head to the dance floor, while Connor and Auston are losers who hang back. Dylan, apparently, has been here a bunch of times, and he’s never been outed. It reassures Mitch, but still, Dylan plays in Arizona, so he’s probably less likely to get recognized at a gay bar in Toronto than Mitch is, and definitely less likely to be recognized than Auston.  

Still, Mitch manages to let go and have fun, and he appreciates the one-on-one time with Dylan, because Mitch loves Connor, but he was Dylan’s friend first, and they sort of get each other in a way Connor doesn’t understand. Mitch adds balance to Dylan’s life, probably.

“How’re you feeling?” Dylan asks, as they make their way off the dance floor after a few songs.

“Kinda thirsty,” Mitch says. “I could use some water.”

“I meant about being here,” Dylan says.

“Oh! It’s fun,” Mitch says. “Good music, good drinks, good stuff all around.”

“Sounds like it’s good,” Dylan says, giving Mitch that crooked smile that makes Mitch momentarily feel like he’s 16 again, making Dylan laugh despite himself as they bicker in a hotel room. “And like – being… out, or, like, out-er, I guess? How’s it feel?”

“Oh, terrifying,” Mitch says, but he smiles anyway. “Mostly. Also pretty fucking great, though.”

“Yeah,” Dylan says. “Yeah, I feel that.”

“How’s it going for you?” Mitch says, because this is what he does, as Dylan’s best friend. “The coming out stuff, and all the wedding shit?”

“The coming out stuff is, like, exactly what I imagined it would be like,” Dylan says. “And the wedding planning is nothing like what I expected.”

“What’s that mean?” Mitch asks.

“It’s like – all the little things are so fucking annoying to deal with, y’know? Even though we’re doing everything, like, super small, and just – that’s the most stressful fucking part of it,” he says.

“Isn’t that what usually happens?” Mitch says. “Yelling at caterers and shit?”

Dylan shrugs. “I guess you’d know better than I do,” he ribs lightly, “but like – I guess, maybe, but it’s also – _that’s_ the most stressful part of it. Like, I’ve been wearing my ring, just, around, and I’ve been pretty shitty at staying in the closet anyway, but – I’m gonna be out, and married to Connor, and I’m just… fine.”

“That’s good, then,” Mitch says. “That means it’s the right choice for you guys.”

“Wanna hear something dumb?” Dylan says.

“Always,” Mitch says.

“For the first, like, year of our relationship, I was so convinced that we’d get married,” Dylan says. “Because, like – I dunno. It was new, and perfect, and – whatever. And then I started to feel less sure that it would just happen, and it was like – we could break up, y’know?”

“But you didn’t,’ Mitch says. “And the McStromes lived happily ever after.”

“I mean, the wedding hasn’t happened yet, he could still dump me,” Dylan says. “He could divorce me–”

“He won’t,” Mitch says.

“But that’s the thing, right, he _could,_ and just – we’re not perfect. We fight about dumb shit, and about important shit, and we’re both kind of assholes, sometimes, and we’ve fucked up big things, before, and I just – I keep asking myself if I’m only doing this because we’ve been together for so long. Like, the other day, I tried to picture myself breaking up with him, and I could see my life moving on, and I’d just marry someone else, someday,” Dylan says. “Like, I _thought_ about it, before I said yes. I don’t know, it’s just – it’s never been a guarantee.”

“Oh,” Mitch says, not sure what to do with that, or the way Dylan says it so casually.

“We’re not soulmates, we’re not, like, a fairytale or anything, it’s just – we’ve been together for a while, and we figured it was about the right time to get married.” He smiles. “We’re generic. We’re _boring._ Like, this is an actual, boring, grown-up relationship, and not some epic love story.” He puts his head down, runs a hand through his hair, and kind of laughs to himself. “But god, I still love him so fucking _much,_ and it’s just so fucking great.”

“Aw, Dyl,” Mitch says, smiling fondly, but he can feel actual tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as he goes to pull Dylan in for a long, tight hug. He knows that he usually only gets to see the outside of their relationship, the part where they met and fell in love as teenagers and never looked back, and even though he knows things haven’t been easy, they’ve always seemed so rock-solid, so sure, in a way that’s always been untouchable, but seeing the messy parts, and seeing how Dylan is past being a young and reckless kid in love with his best friend but would still go to the literal moon for him – it’s the part of love that Mitch only ever sees in flashes, the scenes that don’t make it into the rom-com, the part where nothing’s changing and nothing’s moving forward but Dylan is still shaking, a little bit, because he’s just, like, that in love.

“How long do I have before you chirp me for how lame that was?” Dylan says, still squeezing Mitch.

Mitch smiles, even though Dylan can’t see. “Nah, you get a pass on that one,” he says, and then he breaks away, punches Dylan’s arm lightly. “It’s going in my toast, though.”

“Fair’s fair,” Dylan says, this dreamy, thinking-about-Connor smile on his face.

The two of them make their way back to the table where Connor and Auston are waiting for them, and Connor must see that Dylan’s feeling particularly sappy tonight, because his grin is even dopier.

“Hey guys,” Connor says, looking at Dylan like he’s the only person in the room. “Done dancing?”

“Yeah, I kept trying to win him away from you,” Mitch says, patting Dylan’s shoulder. “Guy wouldn’t budge.”

“It’s ‘cause you can’t dance for shit,” Dylan says, smiling.

“I’m better than Davo,” Mitch says. “Matty, back me up.”

“Well,” Auston says, and he looks at Mitch for a second before he says, “Mitchy… dances.”

Mitch makes a noise at that, this indignant exhale that would be laughter if he wasn’t being mocked right now, as Connor and Dylan crack up. “Wow,” he says, equal parts offended and impressed. “You’re the _worst._ Fuck all of you, I’m a great dancer.”

“Sure,” Connor says. “Not good enough to steal my fiancé, though.”

“Listen, one of us danced with your fiancé tonight, and it wasn’t you, so,” Mitch shoots back, and Connor thinks for a second before getting this determined look in his eye.

“Y’know what? Fair enough,” Connor says, then turns to Dylan. “Dance with me.”

“Not even gonna ask?” Dylan teases, but Connor’s already standing up and grabbing Dylan’s hand.

“You wouldn’t say no,” Connor says simply, and Dylan just smiles and does this small shrug, like, _you’re not wrong._

“Guess someone’s feeling impulsive tonight,” Mitch says, amused.

“Guess so,” Connor says, his eyes fixed on the dance floor, and Dylan lets himself be tugged away as Mitch laughs.

He turns back to Auston, half expecting him to be staring at the strange spectacle of one of Davo’s bouts of drama, but Auston’s already looking at Mitch, thoughtful.

“You look like a proud parent,” he says, and Mitch gently shoves him before sitting in Connor’s recently-abandoned chair.

“I’m only a year older than you,” Mitch says.

“I meant about them,” Auston says, nodding in the direction of where Dylan and Connor had disappeared into the crowd. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Mitch shrugs. “They’re my best friends. I’ve known them since forever.”

“I remember all those videos of you guys doing draft stuff,” Auston says, smiling a little. “Those are vintage.”

“Should’ve been born a year earlier, you could’ve joined us,” Mitch says, taking a sip from the beer Connor had left behind. “We had fun.”

“Not a year,” Auston corrects. “I missed the draft deadline by, like, two days.”

“Oh shit, yeah,” Mitch says. “Wow, that’s weird to think about.”

“I know,” Auston says.

Mitch almost asks if he ever thinks about it, and what he thinks would’ve happened, but then Mitch starts to imagine it, and… Auston and Connor would’ve gone first and second, Eichs would be in Arizona, Dylan would be in Toronto, and Mitch would be in Carolina, and – it would be different, maybe better for Dylan and Connor, but Mitch wouldn’t be playing for his city, and Auston wouldn’t be there, and they might not be friends, might only barely know each other, and that makes Mitch really fucking sad.

“Yeah,” Auston says, reading Mitch’s face, like he’s had the same train of thought before. “I try not to.”

“So fucking weird,” Mitch repeats, trying to shake the overwhelming sadness he feels at the thought of not having Auston around. It’s dumb, because the only reason he’s so sad about it is because Auston _has_ been around, a constant in Mitch’s life for five years, and an important one, too.

“Hey,” Auston says, concerned, and Mitch looks up. “You good?”

Mitch blinks. “Yeah, I just–” he doesn’t really know where he’s going with that, honestly, but before he can figure it out, he sees a Cubs hat on a familiar-looking head. “I think I see someone I know?”

“What?” Auston says.

“Yeah, a friend,” Mitch says, and then he stands up. “Do you–”

“It’s fine,” Auston says, which Mitch thinks means, ‘it’s fine if you go, I can wait’, but then Auston stands up too.

Mitch walks a little closer, trying to get a better look, and when the guy turns around, Mitch can see that it’s most definitely Jesse. He’s holding a drink in his hand, and he’s idly scanning the room when he locks eyes with Mitch. There’s a weird split second of panic where Mitch doesn’t really know what to do, but — he’s here, not making any attempt to keep it a secret that he’s the kind of person who might go to a gay bar, and Jesse is someone he knows, so Mitch finds himself waving, and then smiling, like Jesse is any old friend.

Jesse gives him a cautious look, but returns the smile, and Mitch figures that’s as good an invitation as any to make his way over there.

“Dude,” Mitch says, giving Jesse a hug. “Small fuckin’ world.”

“I’ll say,” Jesse says, and then he looks over Mitch’s shoulder, and Mitch turns around to see that Auston is standing right behind him, close enough that Mitch startles and kind of bumps into him. Auston, the literal giant that he is, doesn’t even move, like he’s a Secret Service agent and Mitch is, like, the prime minister or something. Mitch almost says as much too, except then he realizes that Auston and Jesse are waiting to be introduced.

“Matts, this is my friend Jesse. Jesse, this is Auston,” Mitch says, and Auston only barely steps around Mitch enough to shake Jesse’s hand, and it’s not enough to stop his arm from brushing Mitch’s shoulder as he does. It’s weird, but Mitch figures Auston is trying to put up a united front, or something. It’s probably nice, that Auston’s worried about him, and it’s definitely not bad, objectively, to be standing this close.

“I’ve seen your face on busses before, I think,” Jesse jokes, and Auston cracks the smallest, most bare-bones polite smile imaginable. “We live in the same building, also, I think?”

Auston blinks at that; Mitch realizes what Auston must be in the process of putting together, and he can almost see the moment it happens, braces himself for Auston to blush, or step away, or get uncomfortable, because it’s the moment of ‘my teammate fucks guys’ going from something abstract to something very, very concrete, and even if Auston’s been cool so far, this is different. But Auston just steps closer, almost protective, and Mitch isn’t prepared for that, and he’s definitely not prepared for the way Auston puts his hand on the small of Mitch’s back for a second before quickly pulling it away, almost like he hadn’t meant to. Auston’s face is still aloof and polite as it always is around strangers, but the tops of his cheeks are a little red, which is definitely not a trick of the light, but Mitch can only tell because Auston’s face is weirdly close to his.

“Oh, yeah, I thought you looked familiar,” Auston says, the tense, forced easygoingness of it bleeding into his words, and it would seem normal to anyone else, but Mitch has known Auston long enough to tell when his smile is fake.

“Huh,” Jesse says, almost surprised. “Well, uh, what’re you guys doing here tonight?”

“We’re out with my friends, who got engaged a few weeks ago,” Mitch says, looking vaguely over his shoulder for Dylan and Connor, but he’s not really surprised when he doesn’t find them; the club is pretty crowded, and Mitch wouldn’t put it past them to hook up in a bathroom or something, because they’re still that kind of gross, even after a million years together. It’s gross, but they’re Mitch’s favorite people, so it’s a cute kind of gross.

“Oh, the ones who–” Jesse starts, but then he cuts himself off, then glances at Auston before looking back to Mitch.

“Auston’s chill,” Mitch says. “He knows the deal.”

“You mean about the whole groomsman thing?” Jesse asks.

“Among other things,” Auston says, dry, and Mitch is worried for a second, but then he turns around to see that Auston’s smiling a little, and when Mitch laughs, Auston smiles a little wider.

Jesse looks between the two of them, and then clears his throat. “I didn’t know you came to places like this one,” he says to Mitch, and the question behind it is implied.

Mitch smiles, shrugs with one shoulder. “I’m sort of… maybe starting to come out? A little?”

“Oh,” Jesse says, his face kind of lighting up. “Wow, congrats, man.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Mitch says, running a hand through his hair. “It’s been – y’know, good, or whatever.”

“Clearly,” Jesse says, his eyes flickering back to Auston again, and Mitch is almost confused, but then he realizes what Jesse is implying, and his heart starts to do something really, really weird.

“Oh, no, it’s – I mean,” Mitch says, looking to Auston as he flounders, but Auston’s already looking at him, his eyes wide. “No, it’s–” he’s waiting for Auston to step away, or even say, like, anything, but it never comes, and so Mitch just laughs awkwardly and tries to subtly put a bit of space between them. “He’s just here being a very supportive friend.”

“So you’re – oh, wow, my bad,” Jesse says, and then, to Auston, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“It’s fine,” Auston says, startling a little, but enough that Mitch notices. “It’s – y’know, context.” He does a weird, uncomfortable hand gesture on context, and he’s blushing very hard, now.

“Context is key,” Mitch says, so faux-chipper he has to stop himself from outwardly cringing. “But, uh, we should find Davo, so.” He gives this strange little salute, and Jesse seems to get that this is a good time to back out of the conversation.

“See you around, then,” Jesse says with a wave, before he turns back to a group of guys a few feet away, and Mitch makes a mental note to text him later.

When Mitch turns back to look at Auston, he’s staring after Jesse, almost dazed, and doesn’t even look at Mitch until he snaps right in front of his face.

“Dude,” Mitch says, and Auston looks at him, still bewildered. It kind of freaks Mitch out. “Hey, are you – did you want to leave?”

“What? No,” Auston says. “No, I – it’s fine.”

“Are you sure? I’m sorry, seriously,” Mitch says.

“Why are you sorry?” Auston says. “That – was that the guy?”

“He’s… my friend, who knows about – whatever,” Mitch says. “He’s cool, it’s fine.”

“That’s your friend who lives in my building,” Auston says. “He’s – your ex? Or, I don’t know if you’re still – whatever. That’s him, right?”

“I – yes, that was him,” Mitch says. “It doesn’t matter, I’m sorry if that was – we should go, that was a lot.”

“No, it’s fine,” Auston says. “I just – sorry, sorry, I’m being super weird.”

“It’s okay, I get why you’re worried,” Mitch says, and he kind of wants to reach out and touch Auston, but he figures that’s probably not the best idea right now. “He’s chill, he won’t, like, tell people you were here.”

“I’m not worried,” Auston says. “I swear, that was just – I was weird for a second, is all. It’s loud in here.”

“Alright,” Mitch says, not really believing him.

“It’s not – if you’re – like, I don’t know if you guys are still – if you wanted to go home with him, or whatever,” Auston says, and then he looks down and scratches the back of his neck. “I just didn’t want to be in the way, is all.”

“We’re not,” Mitch says. “It’s like – I don’t know, when things are shitty, we call each other. Things aren’t shitty right now, so just – don’t overthink it, dude.”

“I’m not overthinking it,” Auston says. “Seriously, I’m sorry, I just didn’t know where you guys stood. That’s all.”

Mitch looks at him, and – he doesn’t know whether to believe him, is the thing. He can think of a million reasons Auston would be uncomfortable right now, and it’s probably safer to assume that Auston’s feeling weird about the fact that Jesse thought they were together than to accept what he’s saying, but the thing is, Auston’s been pretty good about things so far, better than Mitch could ever hope for from a straight person, and Mitch doesn’t want to have to put his guard up around Auston again when Auston seems more than willing to lie if he’s feeling uncomfortable.

“I didn’t come to a gay bar to hook up with the same guy I’ve been sleeping with for years,” Mitch says, and he cracks a smile. “Thanks for thinking to not cockblock, though.”

“Any time,” Auston says, and he looks embarrassed, but relaxed. “I’m a pretty shitty wingman, but that much I know.”

“Really? I’m a great wingman,” Mitch says. “I could give you some tips.”

“That’s a really roundabout way to meet guys,” Auston says, and then, a little hesitant, “I’m not – you’re not holding back right now because of me, right?”

Mitch bites the corner of his mouth. “I’m not really there yet, I don’t think,” he says. “Just – being here is fun, but I don’t know if I’m ready to just, like, hit on random guys, who, like, might know who I am.”

“Okay,” Auston says, nodding. “Well, if you change your mind – I dunno, I’m down to learn to wingman.” After a second, he adds, smiling a little strangely, “Or if you don’t want to get hit on, I guess I make a convincing fake boyfriend to scare them off.”

Mitch ignores the way his stomach twists at the thought of Auston pretending to be his boyfriend, tries not to picture it for longer than a second. “Maybe you could be my bodyguard instead,” Mitch says. “That’d be more fun. You’d get to have a walkie talkie.”

“I don’t think bodyguards use walkie talkies anymore,” Auston says.

Mitch waves him off. “Whatever, man. I’m gonna get another drink.”

“I’ll come with,” Auston says, and he still stands a little closer than Mitch expects him to as they make their way to the bar, but Mitch doesn’t really mind.

***

“Are we sure people still use Tinder?” Mitch calls. He’s currently upside-down on Auston’s couch, waiting for Auston to finish changing out of his workout clothes before they go get food.

“I guess,” Auston says, walking into the living room. “I don’t know, man, I don’t do dating apps, or whatever.”

Mitch looks up. “Is that my shirt?”

“Yep,” Auston says, unapologetic.

“Ugh, no one does dating apps,” Mitch says, rolling onto his stomach. “Why is everyone we know so monogamous?”

“The younger guys could probably help,” Auston says.

“That would make me feel old,” Mitch complains. “I can’t ask someone younger than me to help me with technology, that’s too far.”

“It’s not technology, it’s, like, the culture, or whatever,” Auston points out.

“That’s even worse,” Mitch says.

“Okay, then google it.”

“Google told me to get Tinder.”

“Then there you go,” Auston says. “Did you download the app?”

“No,” Mitch says.

“Well, then, do that,” Auston says, walking to the part of the couch currently occupied by Mitch’s feet. Mitch flips over to lie on his back again, then lifts his legs so Auston can sit down before he places them in Auston’s lap.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Mitch says as he opens up the app store, just to be a dick.  

“No, but you told me we were setting up a Tinder account today, so,” Auston says. He puts his hand on Mitch’s ankle, and just kind of leaves it there, and Mitch can feel that his hands are warm.

“Okay, well,” Mitch says. “I downloaded the app.”

“What’s it telling you to do now?” Auston asks.

“Just, like, basic info shit, and a profile description,” Mitch says. “What do I write for that?”

“Well, what do you want to write?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking,” Mitch says. “Like, I dunno, what kind of shit do people usually write?”

“Likes and dislikes, I guess?” Auston says. “Whatever, it can be the same as Twitter. Just, like, a blurb.”

“Do I mention hockey?” Mitch asks.

“I mean, if you want guys to know you play hockey,” Auston says. “Do you think you’re gonna?”

“I mean, I should probably keep it, like, anonymous, for now,” Mitch says. “So I guess not. Uh, hm.” He frowns at his phone, and Auston squeezes his ankle, a little.

 _I’m super chill, and I met Auston Matthews once,_ Mitch types out.

“How’s this?” he says, smirking and holding the phone out so Auston can see.

Auston looks at it, and then he smiles, the way he usually does when Mitch chirps him. It’s more fondness than exasperation, and definitely one of Mitch’s favorite things.

“You’re such an asshole,” Auston says.

“And yet you’re still hanging out with me,” Mitch says.

“I don’t know why, honestly,” Auston says. “You’re annoying.”

“You love me,” Mitch says.

“Guess so,” Auston says.

“Okay, now it’s having me put pictures,” Mitch says. “Uh, shoot, I guess I should, like, crop out my face?”

“Or just, like, obscure it,” Auston says. “Take a mirror picture, hold the phone in front of your face.”

“I don’t have any pictures like that,” Mitch says.

“I mean, take one?” Auston says. “I have a mirror.”

Mitch looks down at his outfit, which is pretty much almost all team gear, and also, kind of sweaty. “In this?”

“You can borrow something,” Auston says.

“I think that’s even worse,” Mitch says, crinkling his nose, and Auston rolls his eyes.

“Fuck you.” Auston turns around and walks back to his bedroom, and Mitch follows him.

They end up going through Auston’s drawers, and Mitch is intending to find, like, something he can actually wear, except before he finds something he likes, he learns that Auston does, in fact, still have his Harambe sweater lying around.

“Oh my god,” Mitch says, his eyes going wide as he pulls it out of the drawer. “You still have this.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Auston asks, and Mitch turns to give him a look.

“Matthews,” Mitch says. “This thing is horrifying. It’s a sweater with a meme from half a decade ago on it.”

“It’s historical,” Auston says.

“It is not,” Mitch says. “It’s just fucking ridiculous.”

“I don’t even know why I hang out with you,” Auston says. “You’re such a dick.”

“Well, dicks out for Harambe, right?” Mitch says, and cracks up at the joke, and at the way Auston’s trying not to laugh at it out of sheer indignance.

“I hate you,” Auston says.

“Yeah, well,” Mitch says, and he slips the sweater on over his head.

It… smells like Auston, which, like. Mitch should have maybe expected, but it’s kind of… a lot, maybe. It’s sort of like – it’s an old sweater, and Mitch is feeling a little nostalgic in it, and it’s just – it’s a thing, and it smells like Auston, and Mitch is having, like, kind of a moment.  

“Vintage,” Auston says, in a not-quite-mocking tone that Mitch understands, right now.

“Yeah,” Mitch says. “Wow, rookie-you was bigger than now-me.”

“It’s not like you’re growing,” Auston says, smiling, a little, this lopsided thing that Mitch probably shouldn’t dwell on.

“Guess not,” Mitch says, and he wanders over to the mirror. He looks, for a bit, and then he takes off his pants, which he probably should’ve asked about, but he’s wearing boxers, and they share a locker room anyway, so Mitch figures this is solidly ‘I’m not uncomfortable if you’re not’ territory.

“How’s this look?” Mitch asks, already framing himself in the mirror so the phone covers his face.

“Uh,” Auston says, his voice sounding kind of weird. “That would, uh, probably be a good picture.”

Mitch turns to look at him, tries to read Auston’s face, but aside from the fact that he’s blushing, there are no clues in Auston’s expression that tell Mitch what he’s feeling.

“Is this okay?” Mitch asks, kind of cautious.

“Yeah,” Auston says, and then he looks at Mitch’s feet. “Yeah, sorry, go for it.”

“Alright,” Mitch says, and tries to take them as fast as possible, a little embarrassed, because he can’t believe he’s actually taking a mirror selfie, and also because he can feel Auston’s eyes on him still. He lowers the phone to look at them, and stares, a little, tries not to feel weird about how cozy and intimate and bedroom-y it looks, wearing a too-big sweater – _Auston’s_ too-big sweater – and just his socks and boxers.

“How’d they turn out?” Auston asks, and Mitch kind of startles, not sure when Auston even stood up.

“Good,” Mitch says, a little too fast. “I think.” He holds the phone out to Auston so he can see for himself.

He tries not to read Auston’s face for reactions, but Auston looks for a long time. Mitch kind of wants to offer to send it to him, because he really wants his phone back, but that would be weird, probably, and he can’t imagine why Auston would want a picture of Mitch looking all – not, like, sexy, per se, but charming, at the very least.

Thankfully, Mitch’s phone buzzes, and Auston’s head shoots up abruptly. He’s definitely blushing, and Mitch is too, and this whole thing is way too heavy, all of a sudden. “It looks good,” Auston says, awkward and just slightly breathless.

“Thanks,” Mitch says, taking his phone back, and Auston turns his back as Mitch quickly tugs his pants back on and pulls the sweater off, throwing it on Auston’s bed.

“You should’ve worn a USA hockey shirt,” Auston says, and it’s still a little stiff, but Mitch rolls with it.

“Fuck you,” Mitch says, hoping it sounds light. “I’m trying to meet nice Canadian men, Matthews.”

“What, that’s a requirement?” Auston asks, and it lands kind of funny, but Mitch perseveres.

“Yes, I’m putting it in my bio,” Mitch says. “C’mon, let’s finish setting up my profile so I can look at pictures of hot guys and not talk to them.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how you’re supposed to do it,” Auston says, and it finally feels normal again, so Mitch just walks back into the living room, Auston trailing behind him, and flops right back on Auston’s couch, same as before.

***

Auston comes to brunch, which is nice, because he’s a solid fourth wheel to Mitch’s third, and because they’re all important people to Mitch, and he’s excited about them getting along. Right now, they’re trying to distract Connor and Dylan from wedding stress by focusing on Mitch’s coming out plans as Connor drinks his fifth cup of coffee and Dylan looks at him like he’s trying to decide whether to cut him off.

“So, for the rest of the team,” Mitch says, “I feel like I should just bring it up when we hang out, like, drop it casually.”

“Do it while they’re trying to set you up, I dare you,” Auston says, and Mitch elbows him, laughing.

“That could work,” Dylan says. “Like, if they ask about your love life, just say there’s a guy you’ve been seeing, no need to explain any more.”

“That’s so passive aggressive,” Connor says, his words muffled by the mug his shaking hands are holding to his mouth.

“Stop,” Dylan says, reaching over and taking the mug away. “I can see the seating charts in your eyes.”

“Romantic,” Auston deadpans, and Mitch snorts.

“That’s going in the speech,” Mitch says.

“I know you’re joking, but it could be cute, if you change seating charts to floral arrangements,” Dylan says. “Anyway, back to the gay stuff.”

“Your wedding also counts as gay stuff, you know,” Mitch says. “But, just – I dunno, can I just say I’m into guys, and that’s that?”

“It’d get the message across,” Dylan says.

“But I’m not dating anyone,” Mitch says. “So I’d still have to, like, make a thing of it.”

“You can go out on a date,” Connor says absently, his mind still clearly on wedding plans. “Just, to say you did.”

Mitch furrows his brow. “Just – go on a date?”

“It’d also, like, break the ice,” Dylan says. “First time going out into the gay dating world, y’know?”

“I guess,” Mitch says, and something feels off about the way Dylan’s talking about this like it’s not a big deal.

“Meeting people might be a good idea,” Auston says, and Mitch does turn to look at him then, ignoring the way his stomach is doing something complicated. Auston doesn’t seem like he’s lying, really, but something in his voice is kind of strained, and he’s staring at the tablecloth. Mitch kind of wants to do the same.

“Maybe,” Mitch says. The moment is too heavy, all of a sudden, and Mitch doesn’t like it, so he says, “Whatever, we can figure that out later,” and waves them off. “Davo, I want wedding cake deets.”

“No,” Dylan groans, and Auston looks up for the first time since the whole date idea had been brought up to give Mitch a small smile as Connor starts to complain about fondant colors.

***

Mitch does go on a date.

It’s dinner, in the middle of the week, with a random friend of a friend of Connor’s, and Mitch is, like, mildly excited about it, but mostly, his expectations are pretty low. He goes into it figuring any night that doesn’t end in total disaster is a success, and by that standard, it goes fine; the guy is sweet, cute, too, and even though Mitch is a little aware that he’s out in public eating dinner with another man, he knows that, objectively, nothing about this is something that could potentially out him. It looks like any old dinner between strangers, which is, like, probably what most normal first dates feel like, and like – it feels like a date, too.

It’s good, it’s fine, and it does what it’s supposed to, and Mitch knows that this isn’t supposed to be anything more than a formality, a shot-in-the-dark chance at compatibility so he can at least say he made an effort, but something still feels… off.

Mitch hasn’t been out on a real, actual date in a while, so he thinks it’s a first date thing, but then the guy walks him home, and Mitch realizes that he’s maybe supposed to feel something other than relieved, but he doesn’t. He can’t even remember if the guy’s name was Ryan or Bryan as he says goodbye, and there’s no mention of another date, just polite smiles as Mitch closes the door.

For a second, Mitch is fine. He had a date, it didn’t change his entire life, but it also hadn’t been bad. He’s kind of tired, from an evening of nonstop chatter, and he feels like he should want to sleep, but there’s also this weird restlessness right now, and the thought of getting into a bed and lying down sounds fucking miserable.

Not inviting the guy in had been the right choice, and Mitch knows it, but he’s starting to realize that he really, really doesn’t want to be alone right now, even though he can’t really being around anyone. Everything just feels so wrong, like the mild disappointment of an awkward, not-great date is too much for him to handle, and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s grabbing his keys and walking right back out the door, hoping his date isn’t still around to see him, but not bothering to check as he makes his way to his car.

***

Auston doesn’t even look that surprised to see Mitch when he opens the door, even though Mitch hadn’t even called, hadn’t even chosen to come over so much as started driving and ended up here.

“Hey,” Auston says, trying to sound neutral. “Is everything good?”

Mitch nods once, mostly automatically, and then he says, “Not really.”

Auston lets Mitch in, wordlessly follows him to the couch, and Mitch feels stiff when he sits down, only allows himself to lean back on the cushion when Auston does next to him, his arms crossed and his legs kind of splayed as one bounces, this relentless sign of worry that only seems out of place on his otherwise calm facade to people who don’t know him.

“Relax,” Mitch says, his eyes fixed on Auston’s knee slowing down. “I’m sorry, I’m not, like, hurt, or whatever.”

“Okay,” Auston says.

“And it’s not – like, I went out with that guy, and he was nice,” Mitch says. “It was awkward, but he wasn’t, like, rude, and I know it’s not even, like, statistically likely that I’ll want a second date, but – I dunno.” He pauses, tries to gather his thoughts. “It was just – so fucking dull, and not romantic at all, and just – fuck, I don’t want to do that again, like, ever.”

After a beat, Auston says, “I’m sorry,” and puts a hand on Mitch’s knee, probably trying to be reassuring, but Mitch jerks away.

“Sorry,” Mitch says. “Sorry, just – this is it for me, man. Just – dates. I have to date people, and get set up with random guys for the rest of my life until I meet one who isn’t awful, and then we get married, maybe, if I’m even able to stand going to a wedding at that point, because I’ve been to so fucking many.”

“You can always do the City Hall thing,” Auston says, and Mitch gives him a look, because that is very much beside the point.

“I just can’t see how any of that is worth coming out for,” Mitch says. “Just – we play _hockey._ Like, You Can Play is a thing, but guys are gonna check harder, I guarantee–”

“If anyone does anything out of line, we’ve got your back,” Auston says. “You know that.”

“That’s not the fucking point,” Mitch says. “It’s just – I saw the shit Davo went through, alright? It felt endless, and, like, even if it was just a normal, clean, legitimate hit, you never _know,_ you know? Maybe they’re just smart violent homophobes, I don’t fucking know, it’s like – it’s never gonna stop, or be safe, and in the meantime, I don’t even get to just – it can’t be worth it, if that’s the shit I get in return, just, bad, weird dates? What the fuck was I even–”

“Hey, no,” Auston says. “No, don’t – it’s worth it, dude.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Mitch snaps, because he’s angry, now. “You get to just, like, be straight, and that’s fine, but it’s like–” he runs a hand over his face. “You know how you said, like, weeks ago that my life was a rom-com? Because of all the weddings?”

“Sure,” Auston says, his brow furrowed. He looks scared, and Mitch would feel bad, but _Mitch_ is more scared than he’s ever been, weeks of ignoring that nagging impulse to watch his back catching up to him.  

“I don’t – like, that’s not how my life works, y’know? I don’t get to be in a rom-com, I just have to deal with all the crap of being gay and, like, maybe get a husband, or fall in love, but like, _maybe._ It’s not happy, or whatever, it’s just all the same boring crap I’ve been avoiding for years.”

“Listen, I know it’s–”

“But that’s the thing, you don’t know,” Mitch says.

“Okay, not all of it, but I get the part where dating fucking sucks, and where it feels like it’s this shitty process,” Auston says. “Like, it might not be the same, but I get that it feels like the only options are blind dates and apps, or whatever.”

“Yeah, but you actually _have_ other options,” Mitch says, putting his fingers on his temples.

“I know where you’re coming from,” Auston says. “Just – I’m not saying this because I think it’s possible, okay? What about Connor and Dylan?”

“They’re the exception,” Mitch says.

“What about that guy?” Auston says. “The one you’re not dating?”

“I – okay, that was a coincidence, but that just proves my point. Like, statistically, how likely is it that I’m going to have two gay meet-cutes in my life, y’know?”

“That’s not how statistics works,” Auston says. “Anyway, my sister’s dating her teammate, so that’s three, and like – I’m just saying there are other options.”

Mitch wants to keep disagreeing, except Auston, for all he doesn’t understand, kind of does have a point, and so Mitch just lets out a frustrated sigh, and says, “I guess,” more resigned than anything else.

“I’m sorry if that doesn’t help,” Auston says.

“No, it does,” Mitch says, because it’s true, even if it’s only a little. “I didn’t know about your sister.”

Auston shrugs. “It’s been a thing.”

Mitch wonders if he should’ve noticed earlier. “Is she – like, has it been good for her?”

“It’s been okay,” Auston says. “Not easy, but. Worth it.”

“Yeah,” Mitch says. “Yeah, it is, I guess.”

“Connor thinks so,” Auston says. “For what it’s worth. And he plays hockey, too.”

“He told you that?” Mitch asks.

“Yeah,” Auston says. “He thinks it’ll be better for you guys, than it was for him.”

“For me and Dylan?” Mitch shrugs. “I guess? It’s still just – that shit still happens, y’know? It feels like it shouldn’t, but it just – it does. And like, even the people who don’t outright hate gay people, there’s still always – the world is just so fucking straight.”

“Be the change you wish to see?” Auston suggests, and Mitch cracks a smile at that.

“That’s one way to look at it,” he says, and he’s just – he feels better, but he’s still just so fucking worn down, because all he wants to do is live his life, play his sport, and maybe meet some guys, but he doesn’t just get to _do_ that.

He wonders if he’ll always be this angry about it.

“Hey,” Auston says, and Mitch looks up. “C’mere.” He holds out an arm, an invitation for comfort, and Mitch’s first instinct is obviously to accept it, but there’s a familiar voice in the back of his head reminding him that Auston is a straight guy, telling him to be careful.

And – maybe Mitch is in the mood to do something dangerous, or maybe he’s just fucking exhausted, but he just… ignores it, doesn’t bother being careful at all, and just opens himself up to it all.

The thing is, Mitch knows that there is a time and a place to shut down that little voice, and that this is not it, but he just can’t deal with that, right now. It’s not reckless, the way he gently tucks himself up against Auston’s side, but his heart starts to beat fast when Auston’s arm falls around his shoulder. He doesn’t try to stop himself, doesn’t make himself close his eyes and pretend that this is anything less than what it is, and he lets himself relax, lets himself want, because this is Auston, a world away from everything else, and Mitch is so tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop with him.

He’s lonely, is the thing. He’s so fucking lonely, and he’s tired of detaching himself from everyone, of choosing to be this bitter, guilty person instead of just being sad. He needs to let himself feel something other than terror, relief, and excitement, needs to tap into some emotion here and now that’s about something, _anything_ other than how shitty his life has been, and how shitty it could be, or even how good it could be, because he’s worn himself so thin by pretending he’s not as vulnerable as he is.

This Auston thing is like a scab he’s been picking at for five years, and Mitch is tired and lonely and ready to bleed.

Auston exhales, kind of a hum, and Mitch clutches the fabric of Auston’s t-shirt in his fingers and lets it all _hurt,_ because even though he’s so much more angry than he ever thought he’d be, he’s still Mitch Marner, and he’s way too good at falling in love. “Thanks,” he says, and Auston rubs a thumb over the back of Mitch’s neck like it’s nothing. It’s dangerous, the way it grounds Mitch, but there’s a thrill to it, too, and above all, it just feels good, and Mitch is done resisting.

“Of course,” Auston says, easy, and Mitch – Mitch loves him. Mitch wants to kiss him, wants to stay on this couch forever, wants to crawl into his lap, wants to catalogue every blush and every smile he’s ever drawn out of him, and it’s nothing new, really, except for the way Mitch can already feel his heart starting to break.

Mitch just presses his face into Auston’s chest, lets Auston squeeze him a little tighter, and feels closeness like this for the first time in years.

***

The Auston thing – it’s been a thing.

Mitch forgets, sometimes, how good he’s gotten at not thinking about things, but it’s been a thing for a while, and just – there’s a lot, that Mitch has ignored, and for a long time, too, and now that he’s cracked the foundation, it all comes tumbling down.

Auston had broken a pane of glass off of Mitch’s pass, then smiled like a dork afterward, this wide, bright, beautiful thing, and Mitch just – he fell. He felt himself fall, too, harder than usual, sharper, this tug in his chest that made him want to reach out and touch him, right there, where there were still coaches and cameras, and Mitch hasn’t been that close to doing something that stupid since that moment. Hell, Mitch hasn’t come that close to doing something that stupid _because_ of that moment, because he was fucking horrified afterwards, and he’s since worked very hard to forget about any Auston-related mistakes he almost made when he was 19.

But Mitch has never been able to shake the Auston thing.

Maybe it’s because Mitch has never really tried. Auston’s never really made it worth trying, really, and even if it is worth trying now, Mitch is pretty sure he’s in too deep.

***

Mitch meets Zach at a bar, and he means to say, “I’m gay,” but what ends up coming out of his mouth is, “I need a fucking therapist.”

Zach looks at Mitch, a little taken aback. “I – is everything okay, man?”

“Yeah,” Mitch says, automatic, and then he shakes his head. “I mean, no, not really. Sorry, that was dumb of me.”

“It’s okay,” Zach says, his voice gentle. “You wanna talk about it?”

Mitch knows it’s supposed to be helpful, so he bites back his irritation. “I mean, it’s kind of complicated.”

“I have time,” Zach says.

Mitch swallows, then stares at the beer bottle in his hands, nervously picking at the label. “It’s just that I’ve been keeping a secret for a while, is all.”

“How long?”

“Uh, that’s not a super easy question to answer,” Mitch says. “Let’s say five years.”

“Alright,” Zach says, nodding. “That can wear on you.”

“No shit,” Mitch says, smiling, this small, bittersweet thing. “And I think I’m ready to stop keeping this a secret, but it’s… complicated.”

“Ah,” Zach says, and Mitch thinks Zach knows what he’s talking about, even though he’s trying to sound neutral.

“And so – like, telling people has been fine, but it’s also been bringing up a lot of shit?” Mitch says. “Like, emotionally, or whatever, so. Therapist.”

“Okay, well, I have the number of someone here, if you want,” Zach says.

Mitch blinks. “Seriously? Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” Zach says. “I mean, she’s good with hockey stuff, but not a sports psych, which seems to be what you’re looking for.”

“Okay,” Mitch says. “And she’s… like, would you say she’s an open-minded person?”

“She’s a therapist,” Zach says. “It’s her job to be.”

“Yeah, but–” Mitch thinks of a better way to phrase it. “Is she… accepting? Generally?”

“Uh,” Zach says, “yes? I guess?”

Mitch starts to think that he was wrong about Zach understanding what Mitch was talking about before. “Like, for people who… y’know.” He sighs, giving up on subtle. “She’s not, like, a homophobe, right?”

“Oh, no, of course not,” Zach says, and then, after a second of thinking, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Mitch says, looking down at his beer. He’s starting to wonder if he revealed too much too fast, which was exactly what he was hoping to avoid with the whole one-date thing.

“So the secret is that you’re–” Zach pauses. “Stop me if I’m way off base.”

“Nope, sounds about right so far,” Mitch says.

“So. You’re… uh, not – you’re gay? Or bi, or–”

“Gay,” Mitch says. “Just – guys, only, yeah.”

“Okay,” Zach says, nodding, almost to himself. “Okay, so you’re gay, and you only just started telling people.”

“Some people knew,” Mitch says. “My parents, and a few friends. Um, I’m in McDavid’s wedding, and he and his boyfriend – or, like, fiancé, now – they both know. I told Matts a few weeks ago, and Marty, and, like, yeah.”

“How’d they react?” Zach asks.

“Well,” Mitch says, nodding. “It hasn’t really come up again with Marty, but he was – y’know. He was cool. And Matts has been, like, kind of… involved?”

“Involved,” Zach echoes.

Mitch blushes. “Not like – just, y’know. He’s a good bro.”

“Of course,” Zach says. “I imagine he’d be helpful.”

There’s something about the way he says it, almost knowing, that makes Mitch’s heart do something weird. “What?”

“Just – y’know.” Zach shrugs. “I mean, you two are close.”

Mitch stares at him for a second, trying to figure out if he’s imagining the way Zach seems to be avoiding his eyes, like he almost let something slip that he shouldn’t have. He decides he has to be, because otherwise, Zach knows something about Auston that Mitch can’t afford to let himself imagine, so.

“It’s nice to have a friend like him,” Mitch says, and then he changes the subject. “It’s weird, though, I just – I feel like I have to sit down and tell everyone, so they’re not, like, mad.”

“I don’t think people will be mad,” Zach says.

“Maybe not mad? But just – c’mon, you’ve gotta be kind of upset that I didn’t tell you till now.”

Zach shrugs, and Mitch worries for a second that Zach is actually kind of mad, but all he says is, “I mean, I know what you’re talking about? But this isn’t just, like, a secret, it’s a whole–” he does a hand gesture.

“Lifestyle?” Mitch suggests.

“No, it’s also, like, you become… political, I guess,” Zach says, and he grimaces. “No, that’s a shitty word for it, but like – I love our team, but people go into a locker room with certain assumptions about other guys, and it’s sort of put on you to correct that? And that’s – I think a lot of us have to put up with that, even if it’s not the same thing, so I guess – maybe guys won’t hold it against you, not wanting to deal with it.”

“Okay,” Mitch says, kind of confused.

“I guess it’s like – it’s not the same as lying to people,” Zach says. “And that’s probably why people wouldn’t get mad at you for not telling them earlier.”

“Because I don’t even know if it’s something they want to hear,” Mitch says.

Zach nods. “And that’s true for other shit, too.”

“Gotcha,” Mitch says. “That’s messed up.”

“It’s getting better, at least,” Zach says.

Mitch shrugs. “I dunno, I guess – it sucks, because no matter what, there’s a different way that being gay is just, like, shitty, and every time I come out to someone, I have to think about that.”

Zach gives him a sympathetic smile. “You know you don’t owe anyone an explanation, right?”

And Mitch – like, in theory, he does know that, but still. “Don’t I? At least a little?”

“Maybe eventually? And even then, it wouldn’t be because you should give them one, it’d be because you wanted to, or it came up, or something,” Zach says.

“But I have to tell people to keep it on the down low, at least,” Mitch says. “Like, tell them who knows, who they can tell, whatever, and then they’ll know who knew before them–”

“It’s not like you’re ranking people based on when you happened to tell them shit,” Zach says. “And you can just tell them to be lowkey about it, or that it’s complicated and you’re trying to be careful.”

“Yeah, but–” Mitch cuts himself off, because he’s pretty sure this conversation is about to spiral into hypotheticals, which isn’t really what he’s in the mood for. “Y’know, I just can’t picture any reaction that’s not, like, frustrating to me, and I guess that’s probably on me.”

“It might just be a frustrating process?” Zach suggests. “I don’t know. Definitely something you could ask a therapist about, though.”

And the thing about Zach is – Mitch has always had guys who want to take care of him, because he was a small, fast, friendly kid, and it’s nice, except with some of the older guys, it’s kind of frustrating, like they think they had Mitch figured out when he was 19. Zach’s always had Mitch’s back, and he’s older by a large enough gap that he has some legitimate wisdom that comes with age that he likes to share, but he’s never acted like he has an answer just because Mitch doesn’t. It’s more respectful, maybe, like Zach takes Mitch’s shit seriously without having to be convinced.

“Fair point,” Mitch says, and takes a sip of his beer. “I hope this gets less stressful.”

“Are you seriously planning to have, like, face-to-face conversations with everyone?” Zach says. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but it sounds… exhausting.”

“I mean, I went on a date with a guy so I could just answer with that when they ask,” Mitch says. “Maybe with some followup about how I’m just starting to tell people.”

Zach thinks about it for a second, then raises his eyebrows and nods. “Not a bad idea.”

“Yeah, but what if everyone decides that now is the time to stop bugging me about my love life?” Mitch says. “Like, after years of trying to set me up with girls, this is the time they choose to back off.”

“Sorry about that,” Zach says.

Mitch shrugs. “I mean, it’s whatever, it’s just kind of weird that no one figured it out.”

“You could always just start dropping hints in the groupchat,” Zach says. “See if anyone picks up on them.”

“They won’t,” Mitch says. “I know our teammates.”

“I could nudge them in the right direction,” Zach says. “Or even tell some of them for you, if you want.”

“Oh,” Mitch says. “I mean, that would be nice, but is that allowed?”

“Probably,” Zach says.

“Huh,” Mitch says. “Well, I’ll think about it, I guess.”

“Good,” Zach says. “In other news, did you see that we’re doing another puppy calendar this year?”

“Fuck yeah,” Mitch says. “Willy says he’s finally adopting one of them this year.”

“He’s full of shit,” Zach says, shaking his head.

“Last year was so close, though,” Mitch says, and the conversation turns to dogs, then to teammate gossip, and it’s familiar, but not quite like nothing’s changed.

It’s good, though; Mitch doesn’t really mind a little bit of change.

***

Mitch does end up meeting with the therapist, and he doesn’t come away from the first session feeling like anything’s really solved, but he does have questions for himself that he can actually think about, and not just dwell on, so it feels like a positive step.

***

The Tuesday before Connor and Dylan’s wedding, Auston finds Mitch’s drawer full of Groomsman ties, and his face lights up like a kid in a candy store.

“This is so next-level,“ Auston says. “Why are so many of them green?”

“I guess it was a popular color,” Mitch says.

“And these are all from weddings you were in?” Auston asks.

“Yes,” Mitch says. “And before you make any rom-com jokes, know that the drawer is, like, self aware.”

Auston doesn’t take his eyes off the ties. “I never realized that so many ties were ugly.”

“Hey,” Mitch protests halfheartedly. “Some of them are okay.”

“It’s not like, a reflection of your friends,” Auston says. “Great people sometimes have terrible taste in ties.”

“Like you?” Mitch chirps, and Auston flips him off.

“Which one is for this weekend?” Auston asks.

“It’s not in the drawer,” Mitch says. “It’s nice, though.”

“Is it green too?” Auston asks.

“Purple, actually,” Mitch says.

“Oh, nice,” Auston says, and then he smiles. “Remember that awful suit you used to have?”

“You mean that awesome suit?” Mitch says.

Auston snorts, which, rude. “It was very purple, that’s for sure.”

“Fuck you, I looked hella good in it,” Mitch says.

“It was a nice color on you,” Auston concedes, and Mitch’s stomach flutters, which, again, rude. “Still probably would’ve been better in moderation.”

“Moderation’s for wimps,” Mitch says. “I’m gonna make you wear the purple suit to the wedding.”

“It would not fit me,” Auston says.

“I’ll get it remade,” Mitch says. “Y’know, you’d probably make headlines. It’s been a pretty boring offseason.”

“The first out NHL player is getting married to a not-yet-out NHL player, and my suit is what would be making headlines?” Auston asks.

“It’s the gay wedding of the century, they’d love an excuse to make it about a straight guy,” Mitch says.

“What are you talking about?” Auston says, rolling his eyes, but he's still smiling. 

“Like, they’d make it about you,” Mitch clarifies. “You’re straight, right?” He means for it to be teasing, except it lands weirdly, and Auston's expression shifts. 

“Well, I mean.” Auston says, and he chews his lip. “I – uh, I guess? Or, well, I don’t know.”

Mitch pauses, kind of looks at him, and doesn’t let his heart speed up. “What?”

“I mean – about the straight thing. Like, things can change,” Auston says.

“Oh.”

Mitch just – he has no idea what to do with that, really. He wants to ask Auston if things have changed, if he’s been thinking about guys, and which guys he’s been thinking about, or if he’s just open to the possibility of things changing for him in the future. There’s just too much that could mean, and there’s a split second where Mitch thinks of offering to help him figure it out, let Auston kiss him, or even have sex with him, just so he could see if he likes the way their bodies fit together, but Mitch knows that’s a terrible idea by the way it fills him with hope that’s already primed to be heartbreak.

He doesn’t let the moment linger too long, tells himself that the most important thing is being normal about this and says, “Yeah, I mean, stay open-minded, you never know what could happen.” He tries to make it sound as genuine as possible, but it lands a little too easily.

“Yeah, for sure,” Auston says, and the conversation is over.

Mitch doesn’t have any reason to think he fucked anything up, because Auston sounds perfectly normal, but something still feels weird, like something went unsaid and is hanging over their heads. He doesn’t let himself believe that, though, because the thought that Auston might like guys is doing fucked-up things to his heart, like making him believe that there’s a real chance there.

“I think I don’t have that purple suit anymore, anyway,” Mitch says.

“That’s a shame,” Auston says, too distant for Mitch’s taste.

“That color would probably look better on you,” Mitch says. “Purple brings out your eyes.”

He sees a reluctant smile creep onto Auston’s face. “Since when do you know what colors bring out people’s eyes?”

“When you’re in wedding parties, you hear a lot of talk about color schemes,” Mitch says. “Things stick.”

“Useful skill,” Auston says, and things don’t quite go back to normal, but the air in the room is light enough that Mitch can breathe again, so he marks it down as an improvement.

***

Connor and Dylan’s wedding is, like, the twentieth wedding Mitch has been invited to this summer, but it’s the first he’s nervous about, because this is Connor and Dylan, who know him better than anyone, and Mitch loves them, like, a lot.

He’s a good groomsman, though. He arrives on time for pictures, shoots the shit with Ryan and Matt and tries to keep McLeod and Raddysh from wandering off every time they’re not actively being photographed. Connor and Dylan keep whispering to each other, trying to figure out if anyone will be offended if a particular arrangement of people is not photographed, and Mitch half expects them to call a huddle.

The emotional component of the whole thing doesn’t even hit Mitch until he’s standing, waiting for the ceremony to start, and weirdly enough, it happens as he’s scanning the crowd for Auston. Thankfully, he’s sitting next to Keller, and Mitch feels a little too much like his mom for even checking on Auston in the first place, but worrying about Auston was pretty much the last thing on his mental to-do list, and now all that’s left for him to do is watch his two best friends get married, which is happening in a few minutes, and Dylan is, like, practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

The ceremony itself might be the sweetest thing Mitch has ever seen. Periodically, Mitch will look at Auston, because… well, he doesn’t know why, really. To see if he thinks this is as cute as Mitch does, maybe. He seems to, because every time Mitch checks, he’s either transfixed by the wedding, or already looking back at Mitch, and he has a small smile on his face.

It’s just – it’s so _them,_ the way Connor has index cards for his vows and drops them all, and Dylan is too busy laughing to help pick them up, and Connor is too fond to even be mad at him for it. Predictably, Dylan starts crying about four words into Connor’s vows, which gets Connor to tear up too, but he manages to get through it without breaking, which is pretty impressive. Dylan, true to form, says his vows way too fast, and at one point, a teary-eyed Connor has to tell him to slow down, and Dylan has to take a few breaths to keep himself from crying again.

That’s about when Mitch starts to tear up, because that’s when it hits him that they’re really just. That excited to be husbands.

Mitch doesn’t really know why his first move after the ceremony is to find Auston, but Connor and Dylan aren’t even done locking lips when Mitch gives Auston a nod to say, _wait up,_ and Auston’s nodding back, and they just kind of fall into step, easy, and make their way into the reception hall together.

About halfway through cocktail hour, it occurs to Mitch that he hasn’t left Auston’s side the entire time, and that wouldn’t be weird, if one of them didn’t know many people here, but that’s not the case. Mitch waits patiently by Auston’s side as Auston catches up with some of his friends from USA Hockey, and Auston stands around as Mitch catches up with Crouser and a few other guys from the O, and even when they catch up with guys they both know, it strikes Mitch that he’s probably never been at a wedding with this many friends from different parts of his life before, and he’d still rather talk to Auston than anyone else.

And that’s – it’s not about whatever feelings he has for Auston, really, because underneath all that bullshit, they have a really, really good friendship. Maybe it’s just a sentimental kind of day, but Mitch is thinking a lot about the friends he has, right now, because how could he not, and it’s just – it’s a nice wedding, really.

“How’re you holding up?” Auston asks, when it’s just the two of them at their seats, taking a short break from conversation.

“I’m good,” Mitch answers, honest.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Mitch says. “I thought I’d feel weird about it.”

“It can be weird seeing your best friends get married,” Auston says.

“Yeah, but… I dunno. It’s nice to see how much people support them, I guess.” He knocks his knee against Auston’s. “Having another best friend here helps.”

“Glad I could be of service,” Auston says, and he’s blushing, but he’s also smiling, which has always been a good look on him.

“How’re you?” Mitch asks. “It’s your last wedding of the offseason too, right?”

“Yeah,” Auston says. “I’m… I’m good, yeah.” He sounds thoughtful enough that Mitch feels like he should press.

“Yeah? What’s up?” Mitch asks.

“I mean, I just – I don’t usually love these things, I guess, but this is nice enough that it makes me kind of sad it’s the last one,” Auston says, and then he laughs, a little. “That’s probably dumb, right?”

“I don’t think so,” Mitch says. “There’s a lot of love in this room, it’s nice.”

“It feels less lonely than usual,” Auston says. “I guess that’s because–” He cuts himself off and looks at Mitch, then purses his lips and shrugs. “Yeah, thanks, I guess.”

“For swinging you an invite?” Mitch teases, but his voice is gentle.

Auston shakes his head. “I mean, I guess? But just – for being here with me.”

“Of course,” Mitch says, his voice a little too quiet, and maybe he should correct Auston, because they aren’t, like, together-together, just sticking together because they’re friends, but it feels like that would break the moment, somehow, and it’s a nice moment, so he doesn’t. “Thanks for being a good friend.”

“You mean, like, this summer?” Auston says.

Mitch smiles, one-sided. “I mean for the past, like, 5 years, but also – yeah.”

“You deserve good friends,” Auston says. “You’re a good friend too.”

Mitch shrugs. “I mean, I don’t know if that’s something you can, like, deserve? But I’m lucky I have you.”

It doesn’t feel like a big thing to say, because it’s just true, but Auston’s looking at Mitch like it’s something huge, and the moment is heavy, suddenly. Auston’s eyes are wide, and Mitch can feel his face turning hot, and he’s not even sure why. He wants to grab Auston’s hand, all of a sudden, wants to make sure Auston knows how much he appreciates him, but he also kind of wants to backtrack, because now this moment feels like it’s building to something, and Mitch doesn’t even know what that could be.

“I’m lucky to have you too,” Auston says, after what feels like forever, and his voice is kind of shaky. “Mitch–”

Before Auston can finish that sentence, someone with a mic is telling everyone who isn’t already in their seats to go sit down, and Mitch doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or relieved. He’s pretty sure it’s both, honestly, because he’s not sure what he expected to hear, or what he would even want to hear.

Mitch focuses on the speeches instead, and his is folded and in his pocket, but as he’s listening, he starts to think that what he has is… not quite right. He’s got some time before his, because he might be their best friend, but there are siblings and parents to get through, so Mitch is the last one up. It’s just – he doesn’t really think the one he has written does them justice, he thinks, as he reads it over. It’s solid, but it seems kind of cold, which would be fine, but he kind of wants to give them something a little more heartfelt, because it’s them.

He still doesn’t quite know what he’s going to say by the time it’s his turn, but as he stands up, Auston grabs his hand, and when Mitch turns to look at him, he looks caught off-guard, which is strange, because he’s the one asking for Mitch’s attention.

“Good luck,” Auston says, and then he gulps, and Mitch has the distinct feeling that he was going to say something else instead. “I bet it’ll be great.”

Mitch just nods, but all of a sudden, he knows exactly what he wants to say, so as he makes his way to the dance floor, he folds up the speech and tucks it into the pocket of his suit jacket.

He adjusts the mic in its stand, mostly for something to do with his hands as he looks around the room, and he tries not to think about how much he usually hates speaking off the cuff. This seems worth it, though.

“So, I have years of dirt on these two, and I was gonna share it with you all, but we’ve all heard a lot of speeches, so I’ll keep this short. Uh, I’ve had a summer full of – well, weddings,” he smiles, and is relieved when the crowd chuckles. “But also a lot of personal – uh, growth, I guess, and Dylan and Connor managed to be there for me, even though they were planning a ridiculously fast wedding. Like, faster than Stromer’s voice in an interview.”

The crowd laughs again, and Mitch clears his throat. “But, they managed to make time for me, anyway, because they are really, really great friends.” There are tears starting to form at the corners of his eyes, he realizes, but he blinks them back. “They are to me, and they are to each other, and – again, I’ve been to a lot of weddings lately, and I should probably be jaded, but even during their wedding ceremony, Stromer sounded the same way he did when he was 16, and couldn’t shut up about his best friend Davo, and – sorry,” Mitch says, and he wipes at his eyes, laughing a little awkwardly.

When he looks up, his eyes land on Auston, who’s sitting at the table, at the edge of his seat, and even from the dance floor, Mitch can see that his eyes are really, really intense, enough that Mitch can’t look away.

“There’s just something really special about falling for your best friend,” Mitch says, his voice cracking a bit, and Auston’s gaze is making his head all cloudy, the words falling out of his mouth without Mitch really processing them. “It’s scary, when that friendship is really, really important to you, but when you trust someone, and love someone, and know you’re good together – you can turn that into something amazing.” He should look away, but he’s never been good at looking away from Auston when he should, and right now, Auston’s looking back, _really_ looking, and Mitch just – he can’t think about anything besides the fact that he has to end this speech now and figure out what the fuck is going on.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath like he’s holding back tears, and that’s when he realizes that he is, so he lets them fall a little as he turns to Dylan and Connor, who are both misty-eyed for what’s probably the zillionth time that night. “Stromer, Davo, you guys are fucking great together, and I fucking love you.” It’s not the most eloquent ending, but it’s from the heart, and he figures that’s what counts.

They stand up to hug, all three of them, and Davo mutters a teary, “Watch your language next time,” into Mitch’s hair, which startles a laugh out of him and Dylan.

“Not even you’re extra enough to get married twice,” Mitch says, but before either of them can respond, the band starts to play “Lean on Me,” and Mitch laughs, this incredulous thing that’s kind of indistinguishable from crying, as Dylan throws an arm back over Mitch’s shoulder, taps his other hand to Davo’s chest. It works for the first few words of the chorus, but then Davo tucks his face into Dylan’s neck, and Dylan stumbles off of Mitch, giving him a fond smile before turning his attention to Connor.

Mitch smiles at them, then starts to walk towards the bathroom, partially to wash his face, partially because the last five minutes have been a lot, and he just needs some air, or some space, or something. He doesn’t look back at his table, and he pretends it’s not on purpose, but as he walks into the hallway and hears the noise of the wedding fade behind him as the door falls shut, he takes a moment to just catch his breath, not really sure why his heart is beating this fast.

There are three seconds where Mitch is alone with his thoughts, which are a jumbled, staticy mess that don’t seem to want to tell him what’s happening, but before he can really tell if he’s gonna come to any conclusions on his own, the door opens and closes behind him, and Mitch turns around and sees Auston, his eyes still wide and full of something Mitch can’t place.

Mitch opens his mouth, then closes it, and he’s kind of frozen in place as Auston walks toward him, sure and determined, until he’s standing right in front of him, way too close to be anything but something Mitch knows is impossible, or, it _should_ be impossible, except–  

Except, Auston is taking Mitch’s face in his hand and leaning in, pressing their lips together, and Mitch is kissing him back before he can even think about it, keeps kissing back even when he realizes that he shouldn’t. It’s this spontaneous, romantic thing that won’t end well for Mitch, and he knows it, but right now, he can’t really do much of anything besides throw his arms over Auston’s shoulders and pull him close, tangle a hand in Auston’s hair as Auston grabs Mitch’s hips, low enough that Mitch’s breath kind of catches. It’s a final-scene-in-a-rom-com kiss, a big gesture, the kind of thing that ends with the two leads breaking apart, resting their foreheads against each other, and smiling deliriously as the credits start to roll.

But Mitch’s life isn’t a romantic comedy. So.

He uses all of his willpower to pull away and take a step back, and Auston stares at him with an expression Mitch can’t even begin to decipher. “Shit.”

Mitch wants to pretend that doesn’t hurt, but it feels like a punch to the gut, and maybe Auston sees that, because his face immediately goes apologetic.

“No, I didn’t–”

“It’s fine,” Mitch says, heartbroken and angry at the same time, and before Auston can say anything else he pushes past him and goes back into the reception hall.

Mitch doesn’t really pay attention to much for the rest of the evening, just focuses on Stromer and Davo and the food and all of Dylan’s Mississauga friends who Mitch hasn’t seen since the days of Lorne Park ball hockey. It’s fun, as long as he doesn’t think about Auston, so he pretty much goes from distraction to distraction, like coming up with a list of song requests with Mikey McLeod, and challenging Taylor Hall to a dance-off. It’s dumb, but it’s an effective avoidance technique, and Mitch manages to have a decently good time, because the whole point of this is celebrating the people they love being in love, and Mitch isn’t gonna let the Auston thing ruin that.

He doesn’t know what happened to Auston, but he’s pretty sure he leaves, at some point, because when “Mr. Brightside” comes on, Auston’s nowhere to be seen. Not that Mitch looks for him too hard, but still, it’s a song that Auston likes an embarrassing amount, so Mitch turns his head to look for him, and it’s practically a reflex.

They play “Livin’ On A Prayer,” but it’s late enough in the evening that Mitch is able to get away with ducking out in the bathroom, and not, like, immediately leaving, and despite everything, Mitch would say it’s still one of the better weddings of the summer.

***

Mitch wakes up way too early the next morning, probably because he’d gone to bed jittery and spent an hour tossing and turning, trying to figure out how to brush the whole thing off and forget how Auston’s lips had felt on his.

He’d been mad, at first, but that was mostly out of confusion, and a little bit out of rejection, but the thing is, he doesn’t really have the energy to be angry at Auston, right now. He figures Auston doesn’t know that Mitch has all this feelings bullshit to deal with, and they’ve been friends for too long for Mitch to be okay with just throwing it all away over some dumb crush. Mitch cares about Auston way beyond the current weirdness, and he knows that, and that’s – there’s some clarity in that, maybe. Like, yeah, he’s got a lot of feelings to work through, but he and Auston will be okay, and that’s a little reassuring.

He hasn’t made any progress on figuring out what he’s actually gonna, like, say to Auston, when there’s a knock on his door, and he’s not all that surprised when he opens it to find Auston on the other side, looking a little like a deer caught in headlights.

“I didn’t think you’d be up,” Auston says.

Mitch shrugs. “I am.”

“Yeah,” Auston says awkwardly, and Mitch would chirp him for it any other time, but Mitch is as at a loss for words as Auston is.

“Do you wanna come in?” he says, after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. Auston nods, and Mitch steps aside so Auston can come in, tries not to stand too close to him, because he just doesn’t know how. He goes over to the couch but doesn’t sit, just stuffs his hands in his sweatshirt pocket and stares at the rug.

“So,” Auston says. “Last night.”

“The wedding,” Mitch says.

“No, I mean – well, yes, the wedding was last night, but I mean – last night, we – or, uh, I – well. You know.”

“Yeah,” Mitch says. “You – I mean, uh, we kissed.”

“That thing,” Auston says. “We should talk about it.”

“It’s okay,” Mitch says, his voice calm. “I get it.”

“You get it,” Auston says.

“Yeah,” Mitch says. “It was a wedding. You got caught up in the heat of the moment, and you said you’ve been, like, questioning lately, so you just – went for it.”

“Right,” Auston says, his face blank.

“Right.” Mitch nods, offers Auston a smile that he doesn’t really feel. “We’re cool, man. I’m not mad if you’re not.”

“Well, I’m not mad,” Auston says.

“Great,” Mitch says. “So we can move past this.”

“Okay,” Auston says. “Uh, alright, then I guess I’ll just go – uh, finish my workout, I guess.”

“Naked yoga?” Mitch says lightly, because that’s what he’d normally say, and he’s desperate for things to go back to normal again.

Auston doesn’t roll his eyes like he usually would, just huffs out something that’s almost a laugh. “Sure. Uh, catch you later.”

“See you,” Mitch says, feeling kind of helpless, but he tries to sound casual.

Auston nods jerkily, makes his way towards the door, and everything is so weird, now, but Mitch doesn’t really know what to do, so he just watches as Auston makes his way toward the door, tells himself that it will sort itself out over time. He doesn’t think it’s anything when Auston pauses right as he’s about to leave, or when Auston turns around, and it takes him a few seconds to process it when Auston opens his mouth, closes it again, then says, “Uh, no, actually that’s – that’s not true.”

“What?” Mitch says, a little startled.

“I – none of that is true. That’s not – I am mad.”

“You are,” Mitch says, a knot of dread forming in his stomach.

“About the other day,” Auston says. “When I told you I’m – that I might not be straight. That – maybe I didn’t say it right, but that was a definitive thing. Like, I’m probably not straight.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “No, it’s – I’m not straight. I don’t know much else for certain,  but I know that much, and you weren’t really helpful about it, so.”

“I’m sorry,” Mitch says, and it takes his emotions a second to catch up with him. “I didn’t know – I didn’t realize it was that kind of thing.”

“Well, it was,” Auston says.

“I’m sorry,” Mitch says again, and then, “Like, thank you for telling me, and congratulations – seriously, I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know if he’s ever felt this guilty in his life.

“I’m not confused, or whatever – like, I _know_ that I’m not – that I’m… queer, or whatever.” he says.

“I know,” Mitch says, and he hopes his voice sounds as genuine as he feels. “And that’s really great, dude. Seriously.”

“I just – it’s different for me than for you, but it’s still–” he cuts himself off.

“It’s still pretty similar,” Mitch says. “And it’s still… a thing.”

“Yeah,” Auston says.

“I’m really sorry,” Mitch says.

Auston runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Like, it’s not – I’m more mad at myself? Because I underplayed it.”

“We all do that kind of thing, sometimes,” Mitch says.

“Yeah, but – I don’t know, I guess I need to get better at saying what I mean,” Auston says, and then he sits down on the couch next to Mitch. “I’m just trying to tell you that I’m not… I’m not confused about that.”

“Alright,” Mitch says, nodding.

“Like – I told Hyman,” Auston says.

“What?”

“Or, not the whole thing, but – like, ages ago, probably our first or second year,” Auston says. “I just told him that I was – that there was – that I had feelings for someone.”

“For a guy,” Mitch says, and he’s probably the biggest hypocrite in the world for feeling weird about it, but he does, anyway.

“For a guy,” Auston confirms.

There’s a second of silence, and then Mitch knocks his knee against Auston’s. “You can tell me about it.”

“I mean, there isn’t much to tell,” Auston says. “It was just a crush.”

“That’s enough of a story,” Mitch says, and offers him a small smile.

Auston shrugs. “Well, uh, it was a really long time ago – again, our rookie year, or something. I think I’d missed a couple of games, because of my back thing? So it was my first game back.”

“Then it was our second season,” Mitch says. “That stretch at the start, when we had that back-to-back against the Bruins–”

“I remember watching you score from the press box,” Auston says. “We were undefeated without me in the lineup.”

“For like, three or four games, yeah,” Mitch says.

“Yeah,” Auston says. “So, it was my first game back after that, and we were playing… the Habs? I think?”

“When Babs put me on your wing,” Mitch says. “It was you, me, and Marty.”

“So you remember that game,” Auston says.

“Fuck yeah, I remember,” Mitch says, smiling. “Your first game back, and you got two goals.”

“ _We_ got two goals,” Auston says. “You assisted on both.”

“God, we got so much crap for those cellys,” Mitch says.

“I mean, we deserved it,” Auston says. He hesitates for a second, and then says, “I actually saw a picture the other day.”

“Yeah?” Mitch asks.

“It was both of us – here,” Auston says, and digs his phone out of his pocket. “Someone sent it to me.” He swipes the screen a couple of times, then hands Mitch the phone.

Mitch remembers the picture – it’s been a few years since he’s seen it, but it’d been his favorite photo for a while. Auston’s smiling wide in it, and Mitch’s face isn’t visible, but he can tell that he’s smiling too, can practically feel it, maybe because he knows it’s a celly, or maybe because he can’t imagine not smiling when Auston looks like that.

“Jeez, I was tiny,” Mitch says, his voice a little rougher than he expects it to be. He gulps. “Man, this is a cute picture.”

“We were adorable back then,” Auston says.

Mitch just stares at it for a bit longer, a little caught up in nostalgia, and he doesn’t realize how long he’s been looking until Auston clears his throat.

“Sorry,” Mitch says, a little embarrassed as he hands the phone back. “You were talking about the game.”

“I was,” Auston says. “Or, I was talking about, uh. A guy.”

“Right.” Mitch’s heart does something complicated, something he wishes he could stop, except it’s hard to ignore the small bit of hope swelling in his chest when Auston’s bright red, looking at the ground like he’s embarrassed.

“I guess I was kind of obvious, looking back,” Auston says. “And that wasn’t the first – I dunno, we were on the same line for, like, one period, and we got two goals, and it was just – it felt special.”

“It did,” Mitch says. “Kinda like we could make magic together, or something”

“God, yeah,” Auston says. “It was – I, uh, told Zach that night.”

“Told Zach?” Mitch says.

“That I – we were all drunk, and I doubt he even remembers, but I told him that I wanted to – y’know. Kiss you.” His voice is nonchalant as anything, but he looks like he’s trying to sink into the couch as he says it.

“Oh,” Mitch says, because – like, he knows what Auston just said, in the sense that he understands all the individual words, and can interpret the sentence as a whole if he pretends it’s about anyone else, but he can’t actually process that Auston had wanted to kiss him, and that he remembers wanting to kiss him so clearly that he can pinpoint a moment, pull up a picture from five years ago and know that he was thinking about kissing him as it was taken.

Mitch remembers that game too. He remembers feeling unstoppable with Auston at his side, and he remembers not letting himself feel much beyond that. He wonders if he might remember it differently, if he’d known that Auston had been thinking about kissing him.

“It was dumb,” Auston says. “I don’t know, sorry if–”

“Was it just that night?” Mitch says, cutting him off. “I mean, was that the first time you thought about – y’know.” _Kissing me,_ his mind fills in, but the words feel too heavy for his mouth to say.

“I mean – it wasn’t just – I guess it was kind of… a thing.”

“A thing,” Mitch echoes. “You had a thing for me.”

“Yeah,” Auston says. “That.”  

“So it was – for how long?” Mitch knows his voice doesn’t sound normal, but he doesn’t know what normal even means anymore, and he’s pretty sure his entire world is spinning.

“It’s not like I can tell you the day,” Auston says. “It was a gradual thing.”

“Ballpark it,” Mitch says.

“I mean–” he scratches at the back of his neck. “I guess – by the time our first season was starting, I was – yeah.”

“That’s when it started?”

“Roughly,” Auston says.

“And what about–” Mitch gulps, and he knows this is a bad idea, but he asks anyway. “When did it stop?”

Auston turns away, and he’s silent for a second, this drawn-out moment where Mitch can feel his heart pounding in his chest.

“I don’t know,” he finally says, his voice a little too quiet.

Mitch is waiting for something to stop him, some self-preservation instinct to step in and pull him back to reality, because he knows he’s being stupid in a way that he’s never allowed himself to be when he says, a little shakily, “What does that mean?”

Auston sighs. “It means – I don’t know? People grow up, right, so it’s not like it’s always been the same as it was when we were 19, and it was way different when it didn’t feel like it was even possible, so – I don’t know.”

“But that’s – when did you stop?” Mitch asks.

Auston closes his eyes. “When did I stop what?”

“Wanting to kiss me,” Mitch says.

“I mean,” Auston says. “You were there last night.”

Mitch just stares at Auston, who’s still not looking at him, and he’s trying to find something, anything else that this could be, but if there is an alternate explanation, he can’t find it, and doesn’t even know if it’s worth finding, anyway. “So that’s why you did it?”

“It’s just – maybe it’s stupid, but you were saying all these things about love and friendship, and I just thought – I don’t know, that it was, like, finally the right time.”

“Finally,” Mitch repeats.

Auston nods. “I know it’s a lot, and I’m sorry, but it’s just, like – you’re one of my best friends, and I’ve been into you forever, alright? Like, an embarrassingly long time, so–”

“Stop talking,” Mitch says, and he’s gonna say something else, except Auston turns to look at him, his mouth still half-open, and Mitch realizes that words won’t be very helpful, right now.

He doesn’t really think much after that, honestly, just lunges forward and kisses Auston, and after a beat, he feels Auston start to relax into it, and Mitch almost smiles, but instead he works his tongue into Auston’s mouth, feels the way it opens for him. He tangles a hand in Auston’s hair, and Auston tugs him closer, which Mitch is super on board with, but it means he has to break away for a second, so he does, and uses the opportunity to catch his breath.

“Um,” Auston says awkwardly. His lips are still red, his eyes wide and confused, and Mitch can’t help but laugh a little.

“God, you–”

“What was that?” Auston asks.

“I just – you – this shouldn’t be happening,” Mitch says, smiling.

“Why shouldn’t it be happening?” Auston asks, and he sounds confused, and a little nervous.

“It’s just – things don’t usually work out for me, I guess,” Mitch says. “Not this kind of stuff, anyway.”

“Work out?” Auston says. “Does that mean you – um.”

Mitch knows there’s a conversation they need to have, and he’s down to have it, at some point, but just – things are on the verge of being fun and simple, and Mitch isn’t willing to give that up right now. “We can talk later,” he says, and then leans in to kiss Auston again.

And it’s just – they’re making out, on his couch, and this might be the first time Mitch has been this excited about someone without also being scared. Like, this is Auston, who’d kissed him last night, then came back to talk about it this morning, and maybe Mitch is being reckless, still, but it’s an okay kind of reckless, the kind of reckless that feels right, like maybe playing it safe is the stupid option, right now. Mitch has spent a lot of time trying to figure out what is and isn’t self-sabotage in his life, and yeah, last night would’ve been a mistake, but right now things are very clear. The facts Mitch has to work with are: Auston has liked him for a while, and Auston’s sure about this, and that means Mitch can be, too.

So, he keeps kissing him, and Auston’s kissing him back, too, and Mitch kind of wants to speed things up, but he takes a moment to revel in it, because _Auston_ is _kissing him back,_ and that’s – that’s just, like, cool enough in and of itself. Mitch gets to enjoy making out with someone, like he’s a teenager again, except he never got this when he was a teenager. But he gets it now, and god, this is so _good,_ the way they’re just together, enjoying this because they can.

“Marns,” Auston says, breaking away, and he’s kind of panting. “I just – what’s happening here?”

“We were kissing,” Mitch says, wiping at his mouth a little. “I thought it was going great.”

Auston’s face goes from red to redder. “No, but I mean – we can’t just – I don’t want this if it’s just gonna be, like, a one-time thing.”

Mitch just stares at him. “I – what?”

“I just need to know if you–” Auston gulps. “Listen, do you like me?”

Mitch doesn’t even know how to respond to that with words, and before he can even really process what Auston’s just said, he’s smiling too wide as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Do I like you,” he echoes, and before he can stop it, he doubles over laughing. “I – you’re asking me if I like you.”

“It’s a valid question,” Auston says, and he sounds kind of nervous, unsure, maybe a little upset, and Mitch knows he shouldn’t be laughing about this, but just–

“You’re my _best friend,”_ Mitch says, and there are actual tears at the corners of his eyes, he’s laughing so hard. “Holy shit, you’re one of my favorite people in the world, and you’re asking if I _like_ you.”

“You know that’s not how I meant it,” Auston grumbles.

“I’m sorry, but–” Mitch says, and he’s overcome with laughter again. “Oh my god, I just – I _kissed_ you, holy shit.”

“I can leave,” Auston says, standing up, and he sounds legitimately upset, which immediately kills the laughter in Mitch’s voice.

“No,” Mitch says quickly, grabbing Auston’s hand. “No, don’t leave, I just – I’m sorry, but – yes.” He smiles, a little more sincere, this time. He knows he’s probably acting really fucking weird, but he’s honestly overwhelmed with joy, and not the best at handling it, apparently. It’s been a while since he was this happy, he thinks.

“Yes to what?” Auston asks, and his voice sounds neutral, but his eyes are kind of wide.

“Like – yes,” Mitch repeats, and then he adds, “I mean, you told me that you’re into me and I kissed you, dude. Of course it’s not just a one-time thing, what the fuck.” He’s still kind of giggling as he says it, mostly incredulous.

“I don’t know,” Auston says, defensive. “I – you could’ve just been caught up in the moment.”

“Well, I wasn’t,” Mitch says.

“You weren’t,” Auston repeats, and then he looks at Mitch’s face, probably at the way Mitch is still smiling like an idiot, and Mitch can see the moment he starts to finally get what’s happening here, because the corners of his mouth start to turn up, and Mitch watches the grin spread across his face. Auston’s always hated his smile, and Mitch has never understood why, especially right now, because he’s pretty sure that Auston’s smile is, like, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life.

“Of course I like you, dumbass,” Mitch says, and he laughs again, this time with his face pressed up against Auston’s chest and Auston’s arms wrapped around him. It’s not even because anything is funny, more because Mitch is pretty sure his heart is about to beat out of his chest, and he can feel that Auston’s is doing the same.

“God,” Auston says, his voice shaky, and Mitch nods, still laughing, but also maybe crying, a little bit.

“Yeah,” Mitch says, and he pulls away, because he needs to look at Auston’s face. Auston’s shaking, Mitch realizes belatedly, and his eyes are so shiny, his face so red, and Mitch doesn’t even think before he gently runs a hand down the side of his face and then kisses him, a sweet, lingering kind of thing, because this feels – Mitch doesn’t even know. Things are sturdy, but both of them seem kind of fragile, and this has been building for a while, but it’s also starting right now, and Mitch is about to vibrate out of his skin, and doesn’t really know what to do about it.

“How’re you feeling?” Auston asks, and Mitch shrugs, kind of helpless, but not in a bad way, probably.

“Like… every feeling,” Mitch says, and Auston laughs, like he gets it.

“What do you wanna do?” Auston asks.

“You mean, like – about us?”

Auston shrugs. “I was thinking more, like, right now,” he says, and he runs his hands up and down Mitch’s arms. It’s kind of grounding, and Mitch takes a second to take stock of things, tries not to focus on the billions of unanswered questions they have to deal with and problems they’re going to have to confront in the future.

“I’m…” Mitch furrows his brow. “Hungry.”

“Alright,” Auston says, nodding. “Wanna get brunch?”

“That sounds perfect,” Mitch says, and then he smiles, and Auston kisses him.

***

Food and coffee help calm things down a little bit, and the familiarity of their usual brunch spot helps bring Mitch back down to Earth, even if he and Auston spend literally the entire meal playing footsie. By the time they walk out of the restaurant, it’s just past midday, they’re both full and content, and the sun is beating down hard enough that Mitch is starting to wonder if he should’ve worn sunscreen.

“So,” Auston says. “Should we go, uh, back to your place?”

“We can, but don’t you have to finish your workout?” Mitch asks.

Auston shrugs. “That can wait. I think we should, uh, talk.”

“About this?” Mitch says, gesturing between the two of them.

“Yeah,” Auston says.

“Okay,” Mitch says, and they take off in the direction of Mitch’s place.

And the thing is – it feels wrong, right now, that they’re walking side by side, purposely leaving distance between the two of them, and it would maybe be thrilling, or whatever, the way Mitch gets warm all over when their hands brush, but Mitch has too much experience keeping secrets for it to be anything but frustrating.

“I want to hold your hand,” Mitch says, mostly unthinking. It’s probably a bad idea, because they have so much to talk about, still, so he adds, “I get it if you don’t want to. But I do, just. So you know.”

“Why would I not want to?” Auston says, bumping the back of Mitch’s hand with his.

“We’re in public,” Mitch says, looking straight ahead and trying to keep his voice casual. “That’s… a consideration, at least.”

“It is,” Auston says. “But it’s also just holding hands, right?”

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal if we don’t want it to be,” Mitch agrees.

“Do you want it to be?” Auston asks.

“I don’t think it’s gonna make a statement to the world at large,” Mitch says, and he grabs Auston’s hand with his, tangles their fingers together, and his heart is beating fast, but – he’s doing this, holding hands with another dude in public, and the world is still turning, the sun is still shining, and cars are still driving past like nothing’s any different. “It’s a little bit of a big deal to me, though.”

“Me too,” Auston says.

Mitch squeezes his hand once, then offers him a smile, which Auston returns.

**Author's Note:**

> There are a lot of untold stories here, and I wanted to tell them, but they couldn't all fit in the endnotes so they got a [tumblr post.](https://lottswrites.tumblr.com/post/168751477014/weve-got-each-other-and-thats-a-lot-extras)
> 
> Here's ["Lean On Me"](http://hail-to-the-goalies.tumblr.com/post/162246984837/i-want-this-blogs-10000th-post-to-be-special-so) in case you haven't seen it, and here's [the photo](https://s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com/wp-media-theathletic-production/app/uploads/2017/11/18235852/GettyImages-876069960-1024x768.jpg) Auston shows Mitch. Here's that moment in [gif form,](https://78.media.tumblr.com/06375189fe685ec61ad05a4f08e38e0e/tumblr_ozn9p4G5NR1vz9empo1_1280.gif) and here's the full [video.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1wdY3wnSSOI) Also here's [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sKsU-2Pasp4) of their other goal from that night, because it was magical.
> 
> [Come talk to me on tumblr,](https://lottswrites.tumblr.com/) or follow me on twitter @lottslottslotts


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